


To Reclaim what was Ours

by Blueburd



Series: Of Blood and Ash [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, KotFE setting, Light M!SI & Ashara, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 60,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueburd/pseuds/Blueburd
Summary: In a scheme in which Prince Arcann orchestrates to claim the Eternal Throne for himself, he makes dangerous enemies. Altrethir Valran - Darth Nox - and Thexia Matua - the Emperor's Wrath - are both thrown into carbonite where they remain prisoners of Zakuul for five years. With the help of Lana Beniko and some old crewmates, the Sith break free and now plot Arcann's downfall.The plot follows Altrethir Valran: Darth Nox, and Lord Thexia Matua: the Emperor's Wrath, during the events of the Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions. Additional original characters such as the Jedi Knight, Jedi Consular, Smuggler and Imperial Agent make appearances.
Relationships: Malavai Quinn & Female Sith Warrior, Theron Shan/Male Sith Inquisitor
Series: Of Blood and Ash [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105463
Comments: 37
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue: Darth Nox

This was not the first time in which Darth Nox was called upon by Darth Marr. And when Nox’s colleague in the Dark Council contacted him, the situation was always dire. Seldom did other members of the Council get directly involved in battles; but, like Marr, Nox preferred a hands-on approach. 

And now, the well-being of the galaxy teetered on edge of collapse. The Emperor, dormant and silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, had awakened. Many witnessed his rain of destruction upon the planet Ziost; many more fell victim to it. Both the Republic and Empire wanted nothing more than to find a way to stop him. 

Altrethir Valran – Darth Nox himself – walked into the cockpit of his starship, placing a gloved hand atop the co-pilot's chair. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Sith.” Andronikos commented from the pilot’s seat, “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve mistaken you for Xalek.” 

“My mind is clouded by thoughts of pessimism.” Nox replied lowly, watching the stars whiz by as they flew through hyperspace. “I feel as though I’d be repeating myself if I told you what exactly is on my mind.” 

“Understood. I get it. Though, I can only imagine what it felt like – when Ziost was wiped. Watching you, Ashara and Xalek practically faint over the whole thing gave me goosebumps.” 

“Such an immense loss of life, all within a manner of seconds.” Nox muttered, brows lightly knit. “Not once throughout my years of experience have I felt so... powerless.” 

“You couldn’t have done anything to stop it. None of us could’ve.” 

“Perhaps you misunderstand me. It is not his power I crave, nor am I insecure about my own capabilities. I am simply in disturbed awe of what he can do.” 

Andronikos gave a half-hearted shrug. “For everyone’s sake, Sith, I hope no one else is able to get their hands on that level of power. One minute you’re level-headed, the next you’re bat-shit crazy, wiping out planets with a snap of your fingers. Just like everything: the best stuff comes at the highest of prices.” 

Nox’s gaze shifted to his pilot, expression soft as he pursed his lips. Even at his hobby-level understanding of artifacts and history, nearly all of those who wielded unfathomable amounts of power fell deep into madness. It was a pattern. It repeated itself over and over again. Which was why he heeded caution when unlocking secrets to new techniques in the force; he could lose his dignity, reputation, his seat on the Dark Council, and his mind. 

He’d lose the few individuals he cared for, too. 

The starship suddenly came to a halt, stopping before Darth Marr’s Imperial flagship. “Take us to the docking station; I will contact the ship and let them know we’ve arrived.” 

“Sir, yes sir.”


	2. Prologue: The Emperor's Wrath

“We will arrive at Darth Marr’s flagship in approximately five minutes.” Captain Quinn informed Lord Thexia, who’d asked for an update.

“Good. We’ll be early, but hopefully there before the others.” Thexia ran her fingers across the back of his chair, her orange eyes watching him as opposed to outside the windows. Quinn punched something into terminal and flipped a switch beside the panel, unaware of her presence behind him or opting to act normally. She quirked a brow as a moment of silence washed over them.

“Are you in no mood for conversation, captain?”

The man turned in his chair, slowly as to give her a moment to react so she wouldn’t topple over. “Is there much to talk about, my lord? Everything has been covered in the debrief earlier.”

Such professionalism. Even after two years of being married to this man, he still left her dumbfounded with how clueless he could be. Or, perhaps he was choosing to ignore her advances. Was that not something they’d moved past by now?

“Tell me of your visit to Dromund Kaas. You met with Agent Alamor, yes?”

Quinn stiffened, recalling said trip vividly. A small huff escaped his lips as he looked up to Thexia. “I did. Were we in a more secure setting, I would tell you of what transpired.”

Thexia wordlessly sauntered toward the door to the cockpit and pressed a button to close the door, giving him a coy look. Quinn mirrored her smirk.

“Very well. Rogue Republic troops were caught slaughtering our men back on Yavin 4. They knew well what they were doing; if we outright retaliated, they’d contact the Republic and insist that our temporary alliance be called off. So, they would have to be dealt with discreetly. That was where Agent Alamor came in.”

Thexia had taken a seat in the chair beside him, crossing a leg over the other. Quinn continued. “To spare you the intricate details, he was disguised to be one of them, then slowly killed them all from the inside. His skills and talents are a great asset to the Empire.”

“Sounds thrilling.” The Sith replied, shifting in her seat. “Mn, I know you are a man who does his research. Are you aware that he is my half-brother?”

Quinn blinked. “I- no, my lord. There was no mention of family in his personal files.” To be fair, he hadn’t needed dig that far into Alamor's background. “But as I picture his face, I do suppose I see some resemblances.”

“Oh? Such as?”

“In your eyes and lips, notably. I find it most interesting that he does not have any Sith features. In regards to his genetics, I was aware that he was half-Sith and half-human.”

Thexia had stood and approached the captain as he spoke, placing a hand upon his shoulder. The man felt a hint of a flutter within his chest, anticipating something more when she came so close to him. “It seems as though you both share a similar taste in men, too.”

The woman slowly raised a brow. “And how did you find that out?”

“His... remarks, were quite flirtatious in nature.”

“I’d like to change the subject.” She muttered whilst sinking down onto his lap, draping an arm across his shoulders for support. Quinn’s breath hitched as her lips drew dangerously near, his hand twitching upon the arm of the seat. He muttered a soft “Of course, my lord.” in response.

She was swift in closing the gap between their lips. Thexia’s kiss began soft and tender before she nipped at his bottom lip, her dulled fangs threatening to break the skin.

But before either of them could get too far into their endeavor, the sound of an abrupt _whoosh_ echoed through the starship. They’d exited hyperspace and Darth Marr’s flagship was visible in the far distance.

Thexia broke their kiss to glance out the window, Quinn following suit. She clicked her tongue in annoyance before sliding off his lap and chair, straightening her armor and checking that her lightsabers were still at her sides. Quinn squinted to see his reflection in the window and fixed his hair.

“Await my orders, captain. I shall be in touch.”

Quinn gave a respectful nod as she walked toward the door, hesitating before she could press the button to open it.

“Malavai.”

He peered at her expectedly.

“I love you, my darling.”

He flashed her a brief smile, “And I love you, Thexia.”

The Sith tossed him a grin before pushing the button to open the door, wasting no time in making her way over to Vette to prepare. Quinn began contacting the flagship to inform them of their arrival, then started bringing the starship to the docking bay.


	3. Upon Darth Marr's Flagship

Lord Thexia followed behind an Imperial captain who served as her escort. They drew ever closer to the bridge of the ship where Darth Marr was awaiting them. Even in the comfort of Imperial territory, she felt unnerved. Something felt off. No – she trusted Marr. She trusted the crew. The Imperial crew, anyway. The sight of Republic troops upon the flagship not firing upon her own men was a peculiar sight to her. The double-sliding doors hissed as they opened. And on the far end, by the control console, she saw the ever-stoic Darth Marr. He stood with his back turned to the door, of course, gazing out the massive window. The rest of the crew on the bridge seemed hard at work. 

As her gaze shifted back to Marr, she noticed an additional figure standing beside him. The man was considerably shorter than the Darth, just meeting his shoulder with the top of his head. His hair stuck out most, contrasting heavily with his white and gray uniform. Thexia approached, climbing up the stairs. Marr had sensed her presence from the moment she walked onto his ship, but he formally greeted her once she stepped onto the platform. 

“Wrath.” He spoke, his voice altered by the filter provided by his mask. And the man beside Marr had also turned to face her. She recognized him immediately. 

“Alamor,” Her words almost came out in a hiss. Despite that, Alamor’s lips twitched into a faint smirk.

“Greetings, Wrath. It has been some time, hasn’t it?” 

Thexia’s jaw clenched; she recalled what Quinn had said to her. The Sith took three impending steps closer before landing a solid punch to her half-brother's cheek. The sound echoed throughout the bridge, some of the crew jolted in surprise and turned to see what the commotion was. Alamor had stumbled back, gritting his teeth as he held the side of his face. Marr had, of course, moved out of the way. 

“If your lust-driven eyes fall upon Captain Quinn again, I will personally tear them from their sockets. Am I clear?” 

“ _Very,_ my lord,” Alamor grunted, standing back up straight.

Before Thexia could manage another reply, she suddenly felt an additional presence of the dark side. She turned her head toward the doors; Darth Nox, escorted by two Imperial troops, made his way down the path to the bridge. She stepped aside for him, dipping her head respectfully. Nox glanced between her, Alamor and Marr. 

“Your message was clear. I am here, and I can sense it as well, Marr,” the Twi’lek spoke, his tone low but with a hint of worry in it.

“We draw ever closer to locating the Emperor,” Marr explained. “We still await the arrival of more. And, Wrath. I can sense your uneasiness. Inspect the crew, if you wish. They know the situation. They know the consequences of slipping up. Their loyalty lies with you this day.”

Thexia stiffened when she was called out, but let a small huff leave her nostrils. “I know better than to doubt your judgement, my lord. If you say these people are reliable, then I will trust you.” 

The doors slid open once more. Escorted by Republic troops, a Togruta, Twi’lek and Mirialan walked down to Marr and the others. Thexia could sense that two among them were Force-users; one was very much a Jedi, but the other... 

“I wasn’t expecting you three to carpool,” Marr said, perhaps in some attempt of humor. 

“We arrived nearly at the same time,” the Togruta said, clasping her hands at her front. 

“You’ve yet to properly meet my associates,” Marr said, gesturing first to Alamor. “Agent Alamor. Lord Thexia, the Empire’s Wrath. And Darth Nox.” 

Alamor was the only one to respectfully bow to the new trio. Thexia gave a nod, but Nox had locked eyes with the other Twi’lek. The woman could sense something boiling up in him; not something particularly good. 

“I am Jedi Knight Alu’na Vess,” The Togruta said, then gestured to the Mirialan. Before she could speak, he brushed her hand aside.

“I can introduce myself. Captain Remi’vu. Curious to hear what this is all about since it’s requiring such a formal meeting.” 

“Keep that optimism, captain. You’ll need it,” Marr replied, nodding toward the group to continue.

“Fendithas Valran, Barsen’thor of the Jedi Council," said the Twi'lek.

Thexia arched a brow. She sensed darkness within him; the Jedi must be willing to hand that rank and title to anyone. Still, she felt his uneasiness rising. Another glance toward Nox and she confirmed that he was still staring him down. Rivals? No- that wasn't exactly what she sensed.

“So that is where you’ve skulked off to,” Nox quipped, his stare turning into a full-on glare toward Fendithas. “You’ve clearly embraced the dark side; why torment yourself by being among those who reject it?” 

“I have not embraced the dark side of the Force, unlike the Sith. And I don’t mean to. My goals are my own.”

Nox’s fists clenched. Before the situation escalated, Marr interjected; “All whom I have contacted have arrived. We cannot waste time. Save your bickering and preaching for when the galaxy is secure, for pity’s sake.” 

Fendithas and Nox continued to stare one another down until Alu’na pulled her comrade aside, claiming the side left of Marr for her group. 

“As I informed Darth Nox, we are closer than ever to locating the Emperor. Our best course of action is to destroy his physical form, if he has taken on one. It will weaken him significantly. With the aid of Nox, he and I will be able to persuade the Dark Council into properly taking action. We will locate the Emperor and destroy him.” He turned to the trio on his left. “I ask you, as representatives of the Jedi and Republic: will you be able to convince your government into lending more aid?” 

Alu’na gave an immediate nod. “It is the Jedi’s duty to aid the Republic, but to also protect the galaxy from evil. I will do all in my power, use all of my influence, to push them into taking action.” 

Fendithas was next to reply. “I, too, Darth Marr. The Jedi have known about the threat of the Emperor for a long time; they will feel obligated to fight against him. You have my support.” 

Remi’vu, admittedly, felt a tad out of place. He wasn’t some high-ranking Jedi, nor did he have any fancy titles to his name. But, he _did_ have contacts. Good ones at that. “Likewise, m’lord. Credit’s aren’t any good if you can’t spend ‘em when everything’s been wiped out. I’ll get some good people on your side.” 

“Excellent. Then with that, let us-” 

“My lord! Sensors are detecting a small flying object. No life form readings – a probe?” One of the crew exclaimed from below, bringing up a holo of said object. Before anyone had time to react, the probe whizzed by outside the window. 

“Lock onto the probe and destroy it. Raise the shields. Quickly, before it is able to transmit our location!” 

The crew hastily heeded Marr’s orders. Yet faster than they were, the probe was out of sight. Mere seconds later, an enormous fleet unlike anyone on the ship had seen swooped in from out of hyperspace. 

Marr gave an order to take evasive action, but the sounds of metal clanking above echoed throughout the room. Though quiet, blasterfire sounded outside the bridge doors. “My lord, we’ve been boarded! Hostile forces on all decks!” 

“Wrath, with me. Whoever these intruders are, we’ll make it clear that they’re not welcome. Marr, get us to safety,” Nox commanded, brushing past Thexia and Alamor. 

“Of course, my lord.” She jogged after him, retrieving her lightsabers at her sides. 

Alu’na glanced to Fendithas, “They can only cover so much. Come – we'll secure another deck.” The two Jedi made their way out of the room. 

Remi’vu made eye-contact with Alamor, but before he could speak, the agent had leapt down the stairs to begin monitoring the situation from the console. The captain clicked his tongue and sauntered down the stairs, quite casually considering the alarms were blaring at this point. “That fancy blaster of yours just for show?” 

Alamor didn’t quite realize he was being addressed. And when he did, he did a double-take. “Pardon?” 

“You’re not gonna sit here and let the Sith and Jedi have all the fun, are you?” He jerked a thumb back to Marr. “Besides, think the Darth’s got his crew under control. How ‘bout it?” 

The agent gave him a small grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I draw SWtoR stuff at my tumblr, @kitblueburdart and post about my characters sometimes at @blueburds!


	4. Defending Marr's Flagship

“Droids!” Thexia exclaimed, one of her sabers tearing through the torso of a skytrooper. “Unlike any I’ve seen before. Whoever we’re facing, their technology is impressive.” She dodged a blaster shot before piercing the metal chest of a trooper.

Nox was focused on creating a powerful force of lightning. He didn’t reply. As a large group of troopers marched down the corridor, Thexia backed up. Nox unleashed the storm upon the troopers, lightning channeling from one to the next. They were all grouped up so perfectly. 

He smirked. Perhaps this would be easier than they thought. 

“Whoever thought to send droids onto a ship with _Sith_ hasn’t the slightest clue on how they operate.” 

Thexia lofted a brow, “The Sith or the droids, my lord?” 

“Both.” 

* * *

Agent Alamor and Captain Remi’vu halted around the corner of a corridor. With their stealth shields up, they were still uncertain if they’d be able to sneak past these troopers. They’d confirmed they were droids – and some droids had particularly good sensors for picking up stealthed foes. They waited for the group of troopers to pass before sliding into the adjacent room. Dead Imperial and Republic troops lied on the ground, their fatal wounds fresh and blood dripped onto the floor. 

Remi’vu broke his stealth field then kneeled before one, checking for any sign of life. “Dammit,” the man muttered, laying the troop back down gently. 

“Expecting everyone to survive this attack is unrealistic, captain,” Alamor replied, shutting off his own stealth field. 

“I know, I know. I’ve been in this kind’a work for a while now. Just... didn’t even hear ‘em coming. Didn’t have a fraction of a chance to react and help them. Imagine what can happen to us if we're not careful.” 

A cough sounded from one of the troops. Remi’vu and Alamor whipped their heads over to the noise, seeing an Imperial clinging on to life. “Hey, hey. Careful,” Remi’vu said, keeping his voice low and gentle. He pulled the woman’s helmet off, noting how her eyes barely had any life to them. “Where are your wounds?” 

“My- my shoulder. I can sit- I think.”

Remi’vu helped her sit up straight, removing her shoulder guard and tearing the fabric around the wounded area. “Give me a hand, agent. I, uh, left my kolto packs on the ship.” 

* * *

Thexia’s earpiece beeped. She clicked it on, slowing down to a jog as she kept up with Nox.

“My lord, the airlock is jammed. Any attempts to free the ship are useless.” 

“I’m on my way, Quinn. See what you can do in the meantime.” She ended the call and looked to Nox, “The airlocks have been jammed. If you brought your own personal starship, it’s likely stuck.” 

Nox let out an inconvenient huff. “We’ll make our way there.”

Fortunately, the run to the airlock wasn’t as far as it could have been. Only a pack or two of troopers stood in their way, and Nox was efficient in wiping them out. Thexia admired his raw power – his ability to hurl so much lightning without looking a hint exhausted. Or, perhaps he was just good at concealing his fatigue. By the time they reached the airlock, they saw debris falling over the door to Thexia’s ship. More skytroopers turned the corner and immediately opened fire upon the Sith. Nox conjured a barrier of force to block the incoming attacks, whipping his head back to Thexia. “Override the locks and free the ships! I’ll hold them off!” 

She didn’t need to be told twice. 

Thexia quickly got to work in manually deactivating the hold on her starship. Nox summoned a storm of lightning, bolts flashing vertically through the troopers. The droids toppled, one by one. “I’ve got it,” Thexia breathed with relief. An exterior explosion shook the ship, but she saw her own starship break free and fly a decent distance away. 

“We’re free, my lord. Currently avoiding getting caught in the crossfire. The enemy fleet has the entire flagship surrounded.” 

Despite the situation, Quinn’s voice brought some manner of comfort to her. She looked to Nox. He was panting lightly. He was beginning to push himself to his limits. 

“Get somewhere safe. Quickly, before they notice and fire upon you.” 

“My lord, I am dedicated to serving you. I will not leave you behind.”

She sensed uneasiness in his tone. He was worried. 

“That is a direct order, captain.” 

Another explosion shook the flagship, causing the two Sith to stumble. Thexia caught herself and Nox used the wall for support. 

“There must be another way,” Quinn still protested into her comm; she was growing impatient. 

“I will not allow you to risk your and the crews’ safety for me. I hate to repeat myself but I will: that is a _direct order._ Get to safety. Please, Malavai.” 

A third explosion caused the flagship to creak and groan. She bit her lip, awaiting his reply.

“I will come back for you. I swear I will, my love.” 

Thexia watched out the cracked window as her starship took off into hyperspace, disappearing in a flash. She let out a small sigh of relief and turned her attention to Nox, “Let's find your starship and free it.”

A flash of orange and yellow temporarily blinded the two. The ship was coming apart by the second. Marr’s voice boomed from their comms. “Nox, Wrath. The enemy has found its way to the primary generator. Meet with me there and we’ll try and buy us some more time.” 

“On our way,” Nox said then held a pause. “Steer us into one of the fleet’s ships. Have whatever crew we can spare take escape pods.” 

“Acknowledged, Nox. I will see to it.” 


	5. Prisoners of Zakuul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The assault on Darth Marr's flagship has resulted in its total destruction. Some of those who survived the explosion have been taken prisoner on board the attacker's own vessel.

Thexia had come to her senses. Though her vision was blurred and muscles ached, she managed to push herself up from the bunkbed. A red shield of light locked her within a prison cell but she recognized the style. She was on board a ship, and this was meant for transferring prisoners. The woman reached up to rub her head, but quickly noticed that her hands had been bound. Force-suppressing shackles encased her wrists, nullifying her abilities. 

“You’re awake,” Another woman’s voice commented. Thexia looked to her left, seeing the Jedi Alu’na Vess sitting cross-legged on the floor. She, too, had a similar pair of cuffs locked around her wrists. Her eyes were half-lidded; Thexia would guess she was meditating. 

“What’s going on? Where are Marr and Nox?” 

Alu’na gestured calmly to the shielded door. Thexia stepped closer to the entrance of her cell and peered out. In the cell directly across from her, she saw Alamor and Remi’vu. Nox and Fendithas occupied the cell to the right. 

“Marr is directly next to us,” Alu’na spoke, keeping her voice quiet. “So many lives were taken when the flagship was destroyed. It’s a miracle anyone survived the explosion.” 

Thexia’s gut churned. On a more positive note, she was glad she ordered her crew to leave when she did. Any minute later and they would have been disintegrated into space debris. 

_Her crew._

Did they know that the flagship had been destroyed? Did they know that she, along with the others, had been taken prisoner? They likely didn't even know if she was still alive. Jaesa’s strong connection to the Force couldn't confirm her well-being; the Force-suppressant cuffs would block her abilities.

“I would comment on how disturbingly calm you are, Jedi, but I know how your people think. Have you any ideas on how to break out of here?”

Alu’na shook her head, “We wait.” 

“We don’t have forever.” 

“I overheard the guards; their commander means to meet with us.” 

Thexia had begun to slowly pace, an ever-present scowl upon her features. She idly watched the others across the room. “How long ago was that?” 

“Nearing thirty minutes.” 

“That’s much too long and I’ve run out of patience.” The Sith knew she couldn’t break the shield down, but she could cause a scene. Aiming for the side-panel of the doorframe, she hurled a sharp kick. It was a bit difficult to maintain her balance, since she didn’t have the support of her arms and hands, but Thexia continued to slam her boot into the panel. Alu’na watched yet made no effort to stop her; if she wished to spend all her energy lashing out at a door, then so be it. 

Another kick. 

And another. 

Her leg collided with the metal over and over again, only briefly causing the shield to flicker. 

“Hey! That’s enough! Restrain yourself or we’ll do it for you!” A guard, decorated in golden armor, approached their cell. She didn’t recognize the style; everything about him was completely foreign. 

“Take me to your commander,” she snapped, panting softly.

* * *

Nox’s scarlet gaze stared blankly at the far wall. He’d been drugged – parts of his body felt numb and ached more than they should. He could have broken or fractured bones and he’d not know it. The explosion should have killed them all, yet by some manner of cruel humor, they lived. Fendithas sat atop the upper bunk, having climbed up without the use of his arms. Both their pairs of hands had been bound by Force-suppressant cuffs. Whoever took them prisoner knew exactly who they were dealing with. 

“Altrethir,” the Jedi spoke. Nox clenched his jaw, feeling his anger swelling within his chest. Fendithas received no verbal reply but he continued, hesitant, “I... I am sorry, brother.” 

Nox gave a haughty chuckle, “Spare me. I see what you’ve become, how you’ve grown and what you’ve accomplished. Your pride won’t allow you to feel regret for the man you abandoned on Hutta.” 

“Altrethir-” 

“I will rip out your tongue if you use my name again,” Nox whipped his head around, his gaze piercing through Fendithas. Even without the use of the Force, he could feel his brother’s hatred, his anger, and his sorrow. 

“I wanted nothing more than to come back for you. You may choose to not believe me, but I will still say my piece. By the time my former master had returned with the sum of credits, he quickly found out that our old boss had been slain. And that you were long gone.”

“I spent nearly two years without word from you. You left me. You _abandoned_ me, Fendithas. I wanted to kill you for that. I wanted to watch the life drain from your eyes as my saber cut you in half,” Nox stood as he spoke, his brows tightly furrowed and lips curled in a foul sneer. “You’ve become one of the Republic’s lackeys. A mindless soldier, doing just as he’s told without a second guess. Utterly _spineless_ _._ You are no one to me.” 

Fendithas felt his own anger beginning to boil. Altrethir had changed drastically; he could hardly recognize the man by appearance as it was, but in attitude, too?

“I abide by my own moral compass; my Jedi title does not determine my ideals. And I'm not shy about expressing that. Which is why my reputation within the Jedi Council is...” He paused, tipping his head from side to side in thought, “Less than ideal, for someone of my rank.”

“Then why bother with the Republic? With the Jedi?” 

“I had little choice, _Nox,_ ” Fendithas replied, shifting in his seat atop the bed. “I felt indebted to them. They saved me from slavery, then promised me they’d come back for you. Besides – I won’t fight for a faction that supports and flaunts the use of slaves. I can’t believe _you_ would.” 

“The Empire I envision is far past slavery. Do you think I worked so hard to claim this position just to own a fancy title? An over-sized chair in the chambers of the Dark Council? The Empire will change,” Nox’s expression had softened, but fire still burned in his eyes. “It shall be a slow process, but at the very least, I will be able to initiate change in my lifetime.” 

“Your efforts may be in vain,” Fendithas said, still seated atop the bunkbed. He didn’t particularly feel safe trapped in a room with an angry Sith. Taking whatever high ground he could was ideal. “You’ve seen first-hand how the Empire reacts to those who wish to drastically change it.” 

“Those individuals were crazed; their lust of power blinded them. They made themselves out to be self-righteous.” 

“Then be certain that you don’t follow in their footsteps.” 

Nox’s shoulders tensed, he grit his teeth and balled his fists. He wanted to scream at his brother, demand that he come down so he could give him an elbow to the face. His pulse throbbed against his neck and within his chest and he hissed, “I would rather die.” 

“Hey! That’s enough! Restrain yourself or we’ll do it for you!” 

The Twi’leks’ attention diverted to a guard approaching the cell of Alu’na and Thexia. Nox squinted – the style of armor the guard wore was unfamiliar to him. He saw Thexia speak but was unable to hear the words. 

* * *

Remi’vu’s eyes snapped open. He inhaled a loud gasp and shot up in his bed, bonking his head on the ceiling, “FUCK- ow, _dammit_.” 

“Take it slowly, captain,” Agent Alamor’s voice sounded from below. Remi’vu rubbed his swelling forehead, hissing through his teeth before looking down to the other man. 

“Oh- it’s you,” He muttered, partially relieved to see a familiar face. The captain looked around the room, noting the bare walls, the lack of decoration, and the glowing red shield that trapped the pair in the small room. They were in a prison cell. But whose? 

He blinked. 

The flagship. 

“Holy shit, what happened? There was a big explosion, I remember something falling toward me,” Remi’vu paused, his attention leaving Alamor briefly. Something felt off.

“Look to me, captain.” 

“I-… I can’t feel my arm, agent,” Remi'vu turned further, his eyes widening with horror as he noted his right arm completely gone from the elbow and below. He’d been through a lot for a man who made a living by smuggling goods, yet he’d never actually lost a limb. Not even a finger or toe. The wound had been patched up – by Alamor or by their captors, he didn’t know. But the haunting sight of his limb completely gone sent a strong wave of panic through him. “Hah-… well, would you look at that?” 

“Captain, look at me.”

Remi’vu didn't hear him; he began to hyperventilate, his green complexion faded paler. With his in-tact arm, he hugged himself, leaning forward as his hair fell around his face. He felt sick to his stomach, he felt dizzy. As his senses started to overwhelm him, Alamor grabbed onto the ladder of the bunkbed and yanked himself up. He knelt before the other man, firmly placing a hand atop his knee, hoping physical touch would ground him, “Captain. Look at me.” 

Remi’s hand trembled near uncontrollably. His gasps were growing louder, more desperate. Tears stung his widened eyes as he slowly brought his head back up, meeting the human’s gaze. 

“I’m going to count to five. Hold your breath until I reach five, then slowly exhale.” 

Remi nodded. Yes- yes, he could manage that. As Alamor counted, he inhaled and held his breath steady. It was more difficult than he thought; his heart still pounded in his ears, showing no sign of slowing. 

“Exhale through your nose, captain,” Alamor instructed, and Remi complied. “Good. Keep your focus on me and let’s repeat.” 

They continued the practice for a number of minutes. Remi wasn’t exactly sure why the agent was helping him keep his calm; perhaps he was one of the, seemingly, few individuals who valued the alliance between Empire and Republic. An ally was an ally, even if they were temporary. Or, and maybe the more likely theory, Alamor probably didn’t want to be stuck in a room with a man losing his mind over the loss of a limb. 

_His arm._

Remi felt his pulse quickening again, he struggled to keep his breathing steady. 

Alamor gently squeezed his knee, “You seem like a man who enjoys swapping stories, captain. Tell me about yourself. Your adventures, your crew, your hobbies. Whatever suits your fancy.” 

The Mirialan swallowed dryly, slowly beginning to calm down. Alamor excelled at keeping a level-head in situations like these. Even back on the flagship, he displayed a manner of professionalism that Remi never hoped to reach. “My crew, I... we’re not all that close. Kind’a runs in the business; can’t trust anyone, really. S’ppose if somethin’ happens to us, they’ll all go their own ways without a second thought. No loyalty among ‘em.” 

“That doesn’t sound so bad, to be honest. As opposed to, say, one feeling as though they’ve been left behind, then plot to track you down and kill you.” 

Remi managed a small grin, “That sort of thing happens for you often? Nah, I wouldn’t want to think that any of ‘em would want me dead if somethin’ like that happened.” 

“And what of your own adventures and achievements, Remi’vu?” Alamor inquired, his name gracefully rolling off his tongue. That was the first time he’d spoken it, the captain thought. “Pardon my ignorance, but – the facial tattoos. They tell their own stories, do they not? Tell me about yours, if you feel comfortable in doing so.” 

“They do,” Remi nodded, “and hey. Whatever makes conversation, yeah? So, _this_ one...” He turned his face to the left, gingerly touching his cheek. “Means I was orphaned. I was given up at birth. Raised in a foster home ‘til I was old enough to bust out of the hellhole of Nar Shaddaa,” he huffed, continuing, “This line means that I know how to hold my own in a fight. Usually deters petty criminals if they, one: understand the significance of the tattoos, and two: come close enough to see ’em.” He dropped his hand on his thigh, idly playing with the fabric of his pants. “Hah, and now I’ve gotta get some that say ‘look, I’ve lost a limb,’” Remi muttered, voice shaking just a bit. 

“Don’t think about that right now. What do these mean?” Alamor tentatively reached forward, taking Remi’s chin between his thumb and index finger. The captain knew he referred to the tattoos below his lip. 

“It’s sort of a general meaning. Translates to greedy, not necessarily wealthy.” 

“So you were born on Nar Shaddaa and orphaned there, grew up on the planet and eventually became a successful man in your line of work,” Alamor summarized with a slight arch in his brow. He’d removed his hand by this time, folding both hands atop his lap. “Have you traveled to Mirial?” 

“Nah,” Remi shook his head, “never really wanted to. I know it’s the home planet of my species, but I'd feel out of place. I’ve never considered Mirial my home – why would I? Got no connections to that place. I grew up on an entirely different planet,” he paused, heaving a brief sigh. “But maybe I’ll change my mind. Maybe I’ll get the urge to go there someday.” 

“Do keep in touch; I’d like to hear how it goes.” A light smile tugged at the corners of the agent’s lips, to which Remi couldn’t help but mirror. Then, a faint thudding noise sounded from somewhere outside their cell. Alamor turned, brows furrowed as he slid down the ladder. From across the way, he saw Thexia up and kicking. Literally. 

“What in the blazes is she doing?” He huffed, watching her effortlessly hurl kick after kick at the doorframe of her cell. From the neighboring hallway, a guard in golden armor rushed up to her cell. 

“Hey! That’s enough! Restrain yourself or we’ll do it for you!” He exclaimed. Alamor took a seat on the bed below Remi, folding his arms over his chest as he watched what transpired. 


	6. The Meeting of the Emperor

“Take me to your commander,” Thexia snapped, panting lightly. Alu’na remained knelt beside her, calmly observing the situation. The women's gazes then shifted as they noticed a second figure appearing from the doorway: a young man clad in white and gold, the majority of his face covered by a black mask. They could see one menacing eye peering straight into them. He carried himself with a regal composure, arrogant even, and Thexia’s lips curled into a sneer. This was who she wanted. 

“I could feel the tremors from the other room. I figured you had awakened,” he spoke slowly, his voice raspy from the filter of his mask. The man nodded to a guard by the door and more soldiers moved into the room. A pair assigned themselves to each occupied cell, and though they knew what their prisoners were, they seemed to care little of precautions with the Force users. Thexia watched as Nox was yanked up by the arm; the guard received a nasty look in return, of course. Captain Remi’vu and Alamor went along without trouble. Marr, too, was oddly calm. Finally, her own cell door opened. A guard moved to her side and nudged a blaster against her back, urging her forward. 

“Come along,” commanded the masked man. The group followed behind him in a double-filed line, making their way down into a docking bay. From the front of the line, Marr spoke;

“Tell us where we are.” 

“You are in no position to make such demands,” replied the masked man, not bothering to turn his head to address the Darth. After a brief moment’s silence, he slowed his pace, stopping and turning to look at the man behind him, “You don’t know whose empire you were invading?” 

“This was no invasion,” Alu’na said, “we were looking for somebody.” 

“In a warship? Armed heavily with weapons and shields?” 

“We weren’t exactly looking for a _friend,_ ” Thexia muttered. 

A low, thoughtful hum sounded from the masked man and he continued to lead his prisoners toward a transport ship. The ship shared the same color scheme as the man himself; the body was white whilst the accents and trim were a regal gold. Elegant if not intimidating. They boarded and left the docking station, flying up toward a large structure in the distance. It was no ship – it appeared as though it was a building, similar to the skyscrapers upon Dromund Kaas or Corellia. Yet the style was vastly different and, most notably, an enormous sphere made of glass and metal lied at the top, resting in the center. 

The flight was tense, no one uttered a word. Even the ones who were typically chatty had little to say. The ship pulled up to an airlock; noises of pressure hissing sounded from the exterior as the tube latched onto the door of the ship. The door slid open and the masked man led his prisoners through. Guards, identical to the one who fussed at Thexia earlier, lined both sides of the tube, standing at attention. 

“You invaded the Eternal Empire: Zakuul,” the masked man continued, addressing the topic from earlier. “I am Prince Arcann.” 

Thexia furrowed her brows. An eternal empire? She thought regular Imperials were haughty, she could only imagine how more arrogant “Eternal” Imperials could be. Her hands clenched lightly – even with the cuffs, she sensed... 

“You are strong with the Force,” the Sith said, meeting his gaze.

“And you will find that is not all we have in common,” Arcann replied. 

“Where are you taking us?” She asked, her tone impatient. “What is it you hope to accomplish by taking us prisoner?” 

“I’m taking you to my father: the Immortal Emperor of Zakuul: Valkorion.” 

Marr managed a dry chuckle, “An emperor. Just what we happen to be seeking.” 

“Do not get your hopes up,” Arcann replied, “Come. We’re nearly there.” 

* * *

Their walk had led them into the large spherical room constructed of glass and metal. At the end of their pathway was yet another long path, leading directly into a large throne. The details were geometric in style, colored in white and gold. It would have been a rather beautiful sight were the circumstances different. The guards in gold lined both sides of the long pathway, and about a dozen more stood at the foot of the throne itself. 

Arcann approached the throne with his prisoners following behind. The prince held his hand out, gesturing for the group to stay, then he approached further. He knelt and bowed his head respectfully to the elderly man sitting atop the throne and spoke; “His Glorious Majesty, Immortal Master and Protector of Zakuul: Emperor Valkorion.” 

Thexia fought an urge to smirk. Yes – they were _definitely_ more pompous than the Empire she grew up in.

Marr had visibly tensed. His gaze never tore from Valkorion, and he seemed to be staring to the Darth specifically. 

“Welcome,” the Emperor said, his voice low and calm, but somehow venomous. She knew it – she could feel it – there was not a doubt in her mind. She served as wrath incarnate for the Emperor for years; even though she’d never spoken directly with him, nor seen the face he’d taken in this lifetime, Thexia could sense it. His power seemed without limit; she knew she wasn’t the only one who could feel it, even with the cuffs on.

“A new name and face,” Marr broke the momentary silence, “but those alone aren’t enough to hide from us.” 

Thexia stepped up beside the Darth, “ _The Sith Emperor._ ” How she felt rage swelling within her being, like a pot threatening to boil over with water. She’d played her part as “undevoted servant” to the Emperor for as long as she could, but the incident on Ziost was just enough to push her over the edge. And now, he had abandoned the Empire for a new one. Thexia knew it from the start, but to him, everyone was a mere pawn in his game. Including his own son, if she had to guess. 

“My _Wrath,_ ” Valkorion murmured, “you are one of the very few who has yet to succumb to madness. Those who held your position before you lacked something that you alone possess. I can feel it now: your anger and your hatred fester inside you. Long have you sought new power, abilities the lords on Korriban could never teach you. Where they failed, you may succeed,” he slowly pushed himself up off his throne, clasping his hands behind his back. “I know what you fear. It is not me, nor is it the fall of the Empire you fight for. And nor is it your own demise.” 

Thexia’s shoulders tensed as she tried to keep her breathing steady. She could feel her face growing hot with anger – her pride wouldn’t allow her to tell him what he wanted to hear. So she kept her comments to herself, frustration churning within her to fuel her fury. 

“Come to me. Kneel, join my side so that I may grant you the power you crave.” 

Thexia could feel Alu’na’s side glance. Did she question her loyalties? Then again, she couldn’t blame her. In truth, she did desire such power; ensuring the safety of her beloved was a dangerously tempting offer.

And in that moment, she briefly understood why the Jedi refused attachments. 

“All things must die,” the Sith spoke, “including you, Valkorion.” 

“She is your wrath no longer,” Marr added. “Her dedication to the Empire – your Empire that _you_ abandoned – is far above any promise you can throw at her.” And before any of the others could comment, he continued, “None of us will bow to you. None of us will serve you. I will never again kneel to you.”

Arcann lofted a brow, turning to look to his father. Valkorion waved a hand nonchalantly, “You would prefer to die?” 

“I do not fear death.” Marr’s tone had shifted, Thexia noted. With her jaw still clenched, attempting to keep her cool, she observed the Darth as he spoke. Alu’na, too, had a certain glint in her eyes. Hope? What manner of hope did any of them have in this situation? Or was she plotting something? 

“You are the one who fears death. I _will not_ kneel to you.” A loud snap sounded by Marr’s wrists. Without the use of the Force, by his raw strength alone, he managed to break the connector on his cuffs. And in just a manner of seconds, the Darth had slammed his boot into the chest of the guard behind him, then snatched up the weapon they held. With Alu’na being the closest to him, Marr sliced through the connector of her cuffs. More guards rushed forward and Marr hurled the weapon toward one. It penetrated the plated chest of one of the soldiers, knocking him into two others and falling to the ground with them. 

Alu’na ducked away from a swipe from a guard then performed a leg sweep on him. She snatched up his weapon and pierced his shoulder, keeping him pinned to the ground. Another guard rushed up to her; she dodged the bright blue blade and parried the metal staff portion of the weapon. The Jedi kicked the shin of the guard and managed to snatch the weapon away all in a swift movement. 

Marr had taken out nearly six by now, though the brawl hadn’t lasted long at all. Noticing a soldier rushing to stop Alu’na, Thexia swiftly extended her leg out to trip him at the last moment. And she took the opportunity to join the skirmish. Both Arcann and Valkorion had simply watched, like a predator observing its prey before the strike.

But the Emperor finally had enough; he raised a hand and in a blinding flash, jagged streams of purple lightning flew from his fingertips. Marr flew back, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Alu'na and Thexia, along with the rest of their group from the flagship, stared in devastation. The guards took the opportunity to seize both the Jedi and Thexia, snatching the weapon from the Alu'na's hands and wrenching her arms behind her back. 

“You have been a constant thorn in my side,” Valkorion said while slowly stepping down the stairs that lead to his throne. Alu’na made no effort to pry herself from the guards. “On this day, the Republic will see their last light of hope snuffed out,” He reached toward the Jedi, fingers lightly curled, and he made a sudden twisting motion with his hand. A sickening snap and pop followed as Alu'na's head grotesquely twisted to the side; her body fell limp within the guards’ arms, head hanging low. Fendithas averted his gaze before shutting his eyes, a sorrowful expression finding its way to his features. 

“Dispose of the bodies. Everyone besides the prisoners, leave us,” Arcann commanded, to which his soldiers complied. Marr’s and Alu’na’s corpses were not-so-gracefully dragged out of the room, the other guards following behind. 

“You have witnessed a fraction of my power here, and on a much greater scale on Ziost. You know what I can do. Allow me to share this power with you,” Valkorion approached the group, eyeing the rest who had otherwise been silent the whole time. He raised his hand and made a beckoning motion; Nox felt an abrupt tug on his cuffs and he stumbled forward, taking a place beside Thexia. 

“What I have seen from you – what I had heard of you – is incredible. You are an ever-cautious man, Darth Nox. You fear that you will descend into madness if you claim more power." A knowing grin found its way onto the Emperor's features; "You nearly did when you tried a ritual to slay your old enemy. But how do you know your limits if you do not push them?” He gave the Twi’lek a moment to speak, but silence was all Valkorion received. He hummed lowly, observing and reading the Sith, and continued, “It is not _power_ you crave, but the justice for others instead. Your sympathy is one of your strongest passions. For better, or for worse. 

“Nox, Wrath,” Valkorion slowly extended an open hand toward the two Sith. “You know the only way to ensure your strongest desires. You understand what it will take. If you refuse, what have all the sacrifices you’ve made counted toward?” 

“You take, steal, ravage and corrupt. I was a slave to you for too long; I did all your work while you lied dormant, silent, building a new empire in secret. You’ve deceived many – you will not deceive me,” Thexia said.

The Emperor’s lips curled into a small smirk. Her stubbornness was amusing to him. He looked to the other man; “And you, Nox?” 

Nox maintained his composure, shoulders squared and chin up. “’Share’ and ‘manipulate’ are synonymous to you. You must truly think us fools to believe you’ll keep your word.” 

“How disappointing. You could have had the might of the Eternal Empire at your side; my fleet, Zakuul and my people. The strongest Empire known to the galaxy, and you deny yourself,” Valkorion glanced to his son, giving a small nod before turning away. Arcann understood the gesture and drew his lightsaber, stepping toward the pair of Sith. His blade, yellow to match the color scheme and aesthetic of the Eternal Empire, ignited with a snap and a hiss. 

Nox remained calm, even when staring into the face of death. His scarlet gaze bore deeply into the other man, unwavering. He thought of his crew, his achievements and accomplishments. Certainly he’d be giving the Empire hope by _not_ joining Valkorion. If he had, Nox would be just another enemy for them to conquer. He couldn’t let that come to be.

As he recalled his recent memories, one man in particular crept into his mind: a Republic dog, but still a man with a good heart and open mind. Nox could never have foreseen himself falling head over heels for the former SIS agent, Theron Shan; yet he knew the time they shared would have developed their relationship into something more. Nox's only regret was that he wouldn’t feel the warmth of his touch one final time. 

Thexia kept her eyes glued to Arcann, her body still rigid and tense. Her heart hammered in her ears. Perhaps there was still a way out of this – she's certainly gotten out of worse. But even now, the odds were simply too high. She watched the Emperor’s son like a hawk, trying to find an opening in which she could possibly catch him off guard-. 

“You came here to kill him,” Arcann muttered, barely above a whisper. “Now is your chance.” 

Without a second thought, he sliced through the connectors of their cuffs, the braces unlatching and falling to the metallic floor. Thexia felt a familiar pair of lightsabers thrust into her hands, then Arcann took off. He rushed up behind Valkorion, preparing a fatal strike to his father’s backside. The Emperor turned around casually and raised a hand, deflecting the blow with a forcefield surrounding his palm. Nox rushed to crush the cuffs around Fendithas’ wrists, giving him a curt nod. 

Arcann’s attacks held great strength but lacked in thought. He hacked and swiped, yet each blow was effortlessly blocked by Valkorion. He knew what power he held over his son; he was toying with him. In a manner similar to how he slayed Marr, Valkorion unleashed a rain of bright lightning upon Arcann. “Your jealousy has blinded you.” 

But Valkorion let out a breathless gasp. 

He remained still, hesitantly looking down. Fresh burns from a saber cut clean across his torso in a horizontal line. 

“No longer,” Thexia hissed through grit teeth, “No longer will you rule. _Fall._ ”

While Arcann lied unconscious beside the throne, the air of the Force around them began fluctuating. It was nearly visible, and all of it poured into the bisected Emperor. Thexia plunged her boot into his back, kicking him forward as his torso split from the lower half of his body. And as it collided with the ground, a large shockwave of Force exploded from his corpse. It knocked everyone back – Arcann, Thexia, Nox, Fendithas, Alamor and Remi’vu.

Thexia struggled to remain awake, stubbornly refusing to fall back into a slumber after she’d just woken up. Panting, she tried to make an effort in pushing herself up off the ground, but her wobbling arms pleaded with her to stop. So she did. She collapsed against the floor, her vision slowly fading out. 

* * *

She heard voices around her; her connection to the Force had been restored and through it, she sensed her surroundings. 

“... assassinated our Emperor. You know what to do with them,” Arcann’s voice resounded within her subconscious. 

“And the non-Force users?” 

There was a pause.

“Take them back to their cells. They have answers to questions we have.” 

Thexia sensed movement. No – _her_ movement. She was being carried away. Everything felt dark, fuzzy and uncertain. And mere moments later, she felt an immense chill. Cold. Unlike Hoth or Ilum. Unlike the coldest of temperatures she’d ever experienced before. 

Then, she could no longer sense her surroundings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	7. The Sith's Dreams

All was dark. The air around was mere nothingness – an empty void. 

Thexia drifted as though she were lost in space, or back floating with the current of a steady stream. Her connection with the force had been separated once more; her mind felt numb as a result. She could not determine the exact amount of time she’d spent in this dream sequence, but thus far it only felt like a number of minutes. 

“Thexia.” 

An echo of a familiar voice resounded within the darkness. It triggered her, in a sense, in which her fabricated body shifted. She pushed herself up though struggled to do so, managing to rise to her feet. Still, she could see nothing. There was no sign of where the voice came from, but it spoke again, calling out to her. 

“Thexia.” 

“I’m here, Malavai. Where are you?” Where was _she?_

The Sith received only silence in reply. Her brow furrowed and she glanced left to right, searching for something. Anything. There was a soft hiss, not unlike the sound her starship made when an interior door slid open. And as she turned, she saw just that: a metallic door identical to the one leading into the cockpit of her ship. Light poured from the inside and Thexia saw little choice in what she should do. 

Her body floated toward the door, her feet meeting a metal platform just before it. As she stepped inside, the light began to fade, and it took her a moment for her eyes to adjust. The room slowly came into view; as expected, she was met with the cockpit of her ship. It looked just as she had left it not so long ago. Captain Quinn ran his fingers across the ship’s terminal, looking to his lord as she entered. Their eyes locked but no words were exchanged between the pair. 

What could she even say? She had lost touch with reality to the point where she questioned if this was actually real. Could she even speak? Could he hear? 

“My love,” her captain spoke, standing up straight and extending an arm toward her, beckoning her closer. Thexia was swift to step forward and embrace him, pressing her cheek against his chest as her nails dug into the back of his uniform. A sense of comfort washed over her in that moment. And though she could feel him physically, something was off. She couldn’t feel his heartbeat, his touch was present but not warm. She couldn’t feel the exhale of his breath nor could she smell the familiar scent of cologne. 

Quinn fell limp in her arms. 

Thexia caught him before he could fall against the floor – which had changed significantly. The ground had shifted to a cold, gray concrete. In addition, the lighting of the space changed; a red hue illuminated her surroundings. Seats lined in a circle-shape, leaving her and Quinn in the center. They were in the chambers of the Dark Council. 

She continued to hold her captain’s lifeless form, brushing some of his raven hair from his forehead. His expression was haunting; his mouth was slightly agape, his deep blue eyes lost their vividness before they fell shut. All the color had drained from his complexion. Her eyes frantically darted across his face, the pace of her breathing quickening. 

And when her hand drifted across his torso did she notice the fresh lightsaber wound: pierced clean through his chest, torn through his uniform. Ripped bits of fabric clung to his burnt flesh. Though her mind still felt that unwavering numbness, Thexia could feel grief festering within her gut and throat. 

A sharp hiss sounded behind her – an ignition of a lightsaber. 

Thexia whipped around and- 

“ _Baras,_ ” she snarled through gritted teeth. Her former master stood motionless, holding his lightsaber in his hand as he stared down to her. With his mask on, she couldn’t read his expression, making it more difficult to study her foe. 

“A tool that no longer functions should be discarded,” he said, voice altered slightly by the filter of his mask. In that moment, he could well have been referring to Quinn or Thexia herself. Then, in a mere second, he’d raised his blade to land a strike upon her. 

She couldn’t move. She took the hit with a ragged gasp, looking down to see the bright red saber lodged between her neck and collarbone. Yet she felt no pain. 

And everything went dark once more. 

Thexia no longer floated in the void. She was, instead, standing atop a tall building. Dark and heavy clouds loomed in the distance, creating an intimidating backdrop for the neighboring skyscrapers. Large Imperial banners hung from the buildings below, creating stark red contrasts to the bleak structures. 

Dromund Kaas. 

Below, the Sith observed Imperial troops lining up and beginning to march. Water started to drizzle from the sky, quickly turning into moderate rainfall. A drop trickled down her forehead to her nose and chin, plopping upon her chest guard. 

Thexia heard clamor behind her. 

Upon the rooftop on which she stood, she watched two Sith argue with one another. They yelled back and forth, their conversation going nowhere if not in circles. Yet both their loyalties ultimately lied with the Empire; their means to achieve their goals were vastly different. One eventually thrust his hand forward and unleashed a furious amount of lightning. The other Sith flew backward, slamming into the exterior wall of the building. The sorcerer approached and swung a kick at his colleague and knocked him fully to the ground. 

By this point, Thexia was uncertain if these figments even saw her. Even if it were a real-life scenario, she’d not interfere unless given specific circumstances. But the victor slowly straightened his posture, then his gaze shifted toward her. She felt his hatred and rage, though faint, and took a small step back. 

“A tool that no longer functions should be discarded. This has always been the will of our Emperor.” 

Before the woman could utter a word in response, the man turned then faded into her surroundings. She caught another glance at the Sith who lost the battle, opting to hesitantly approach. The mask that was covered by his hood – the decorative spikes that emerged from his shoulders – she recognized the unique appearance. 

“Marr,” she breathed. 

His corpse emitted smoke, smoldering from the sorcerer’s lightning. But he, too, faded. The fabric of his cloak was all that remained, and it fell, pooling flat into the spot on which he sat. 

Thexia swallowed dryly and took a couple of tentative steps backward, approaching the ledge of the building once more. To her horror, the sleek and uniform buildings of Dromund Kaas were set aflame. Some buildings were half-gone, others were missing entirely. But the whole city burned – and no amount of rain could extinguish the fires. A tattered Imperial banner fell from the sky, floating down in front of the woman and drifting out toward the city. 

“You possess qualities your late master lacked.” A new voice echoed throughout the sky. Thexia knew this one, too. 

“Leave me be, Valkorion. You are a figment like all the others; I can simply wish you away and it will come to be.” 

The Emperor’s dark, low laughter filled the air. “I am unlike those of your visions. I am in your mind. I am a part of you. Look upon your city, Wrath. It burns. It is devoured by flame from those who sought change. From those who spoke their mind and ignored the idea of consequence. You have seen it time and time before. Malgus. Ikoral. Baras. And like all of those who acted against the Empire, they fell. 

“How is one to rule when one’s Empire is at constant war with itself?” Valkorion inquired, phasing into Thexia’s vision and claiming a spot beside her. “How is one to bring order to the galaxy when one’s Empire cannot cooperate together?” He looked down to the Sith, expressionless. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer, just as before, so she kept quiet. He continued nevertheless, “A tool that no longer functions should be discarded. And replaced.” 

Hearing the phrase for the third time struck a chord for her. Once the thought of striking at Valkorion crossed her mind, the scenery changed again. 

Thexia and the Emperor stood atop a balcony, looking over a grand display of elegantly-dressed people. The guards in gold from Valkorion’s ship stood at attention. The style of architecture was familiar to the woman. 

“Zakuul,” said the man. “My Eternal Empire. I have accomplished more than you can imagine by starting anew. There is no ship that the Republic nor your Empire possesses that is a match for my fleet.” 

“You will not sway me by flaunting your new toys,” Thexia snapped, “You cannot sway me with anything.” 

“Then ponder this with me: imagine the Republic and Empire have surrendered to Zakuul. They recognize its power. They join but are still kept at an arm’s length.” He paused, a hint of a grin creeping its way onto his features. “Your beloved is a stubborn man, his loyalty unwavering. Perhaps he does what is required for the best interest of your Empire, but you know he will turn traitor to Zakuul the moment he could. He is no stranger to betrayal.”

As Thexia clenched her fists, Valkorion stepped aside and gestured to the side with an open palm. 

Clad in the colors of Zakuul, and carrying a black helmet with golden trim beneath his arm, Quinn approached the pair. No words were exchanged between them as he bowed respectfully. Valkorion continued, “Your merciful trait is not shared with everyone within the galaxy. In Zakuul, the punishment for betrayal...” 

Thexia wanted to go to him, but she couldn’t move. Her body froze in place and she watched as a guard in gold walked up behind Quinn. The soldier thrust the spear into the man’s chest, and only then could Thexia react. She cried out in frustration and lurched forward, holding out her arms to catch him once more. 

He vanished. 

She knelt upon the floor of gold and stone, hands trembling as she panted softly. From behind her, footsteps sounded and Valkorion approached, “You know how to prevent this. Become the rightful ruler of the Eternal Empire, my Wrath. Accept my power, break free of your prison and claim the throne.” 

“ _No,_ ” she gasped, her voice threatening to crack from anger, “It is not my fate.” 

“It is your destiny; for the good of your people and for those you care for most. You know I speak true.” 

Thexia ignited one of her lightsabers and whipped around, striking at Valkorion with a snarl. Her blade phased straight through him and then- a burst of pain coursed through her body. A cry of agony tore from her throat and she dropped her blade. “What- what’s happening-?” 

“You are dying. It is my power that is keeping you alive. Without me, you would have long been dead.” 

“I didn’t _request_ your help.” 

“You will learn to accept my generosity,” Valkorion moved to her front, holding out a hand. “Embrace your future, Wrath. It is the only way to ensure your beloved’s safety.” 

Thexia stared to his open hand, her emotions and thoughts conflicting with one another. No doubt Valkorion could sense that – he had that stupid, smug smirk upon his lips. She gripped her shoulders tightly as her orange eyes flicked up to meet his. 

* * *

Figures moved past Nox in a blur, going their own ways within the market of Hutta. Some phased straight through him as he stood in the middle of the path, motionless. He was not clad in his Sith armor and was, instead, wearing clothes of linen. His tunic that was a bit too large was secured with a somewhat tattered sash. And his lekku wrapped around his neck like a scarf, the backside hidden by a hood that he tugged over his head. 

Nox knew this place. He stood in his birth town, the vile place it was. He always hated it here. Every day he spent on this muggy, overheated rock was a day he craved to be anywhere else. 

Growing up as a slave, he knew he had little choice in the matter. 

The market was bustling around him; humans and alien species whizzed past him to travel to their unknown destinations. Nox began a slow walk upstream, some of the figments walking straight through him. But didn't pay any mind to them. The dirt path led to a large estate, one which Nox recognized immediately: the palace of his old master. 

Something in his mind urged him forward, and so he continued. Through the crowd, down the path, then up the stairs and through the large archway. The interior of the palace was bright and lively; colorful lights decorated the walls and ceiling, attractive servants delivered drinks to patrons. And, of course, he noted the unnerving sight of his fellow Twi’lek used as slaves. One stood out to him, striking him as familiar. The man’s teal skin was decorated in similar tattoos to Nox’s; his hands were bound in metallic cuffs and he bowed his head in submission to his superior. 

Nox felt his heart skip a beat – he stared to Fendithas, watching as the human man shouted inaudibly at him. The man then looked to his left and beckoned someone else over. Another human dragged two additional Twi’lek with him, shoving them into Fendithas: Nox and Fendithas' mother and his father. 

In what little he could recall of reality, they had both been dead for years; they never lived as long to see Altrethir and Fendithas grow into young men. 

One of the humans suddenly struck his brother in the gut, making him keel over and fall to his knees. His mother protested but was restrained by the other human, yanking her back by her metal collar. Nox felt anger building within his chest, though the feeling itself was distant. 

The human landed a solid kick across Fendithas’ cheek; he’d caught himself before he could fall to the ground and his mother continued to struggle against her restraints. Though the abuse was rough, Nox didn’t exactly feel ill watching his brother receive the beating. But when the human rose his fist to strike at his mother, he felt a rush of adrenaline course through his fragmented body. 

Nox lifted his hand and halted the man mid-reach with the Force. His rage became his strength – it manifested and fed him raw power. Thrusting his arms forward, he channeled lightning straight toward the fabricated human. The light was nearly blinding, but Nox didn’t let up. 

The human disintegrated into transparent ash. 

Fendithas moved his arms from his face, peering up to Nox with fearful eyes. His parents, too, stared to him with scared expressions. The whole room became deafeningly silent; all of their attention fell upon the Sith. And as his gaze lowered, he found himself wearing the set of armor he held to his title. His lightsaber was hooked onto his leather belt, and a crimson cloak draped across his shoulders to cascade down his back. Nox took the moment to slowly turn and look around the room, noting how everyone couldn’t tear their gaze from him. 

Shifting to face his family again, Altrethir extended a hand toward Fendithas, “We will see justice for our people,” said the Sith, “starting with Hutta.” 

“Who are you?” The woman asked, her voice hoarse. 

Altrethir’s fingers curled, his hand withdrawing a bit in surprise. “Mother, I-” he paused, huffing a laugh of disbelief, “it’s- it’s me, Altrethir. Your son.” 

She exchanged looks with his father and Fendithas, hesitant to reply, “You do not have my son’s eyes. He would never have given in to the Empire. His heart is pure,” she shook her head, crawling toward Fendithas and clasping his shoulder protectively. “He would never have committed a murder.”

Altrethir felt a pang in his chest. He swallowed dryly, mouth falling open but words couldn’t find their way out. His hand twitched at his side as he straightened his posture, “No, I-… What I did, I did to save you. To save and free people like us.” 

“You failed,” Fendithas spoke flatly. “Mother and father are dead because you could not protect them.” 

Altrethir blinked and- in a sudden moment, his parents disappeared from the scene. His brother rested against the wall, folding a knee as he draped an arm across it. His cuffs and shock collar were gone and he no longer wore a fearful expression. He met Altrethir’s gaze with golden eyes. Fendithas’ face had the slightest of changes; ever so subtle creases upon his face had surfaced. He looked older, his complexion was even a shade lighter. 

The rest of the room was empty. But remnants of the party remained and created an unsavory environment. Altrethir spoke, “There was nothing we could have done.” 

“Is that what you tell yourself? Is that what makes you sleep at night?” Fendithas pushed himself up, standing and meeting his brother’s eyes directly. “You were afraid. And now, you’ve become a lapdog for the enemy. You surrendered to them in exchange for your life. 

“You vowed to yourself to end slavery within the Empire, yet I see a significant lack in progress. After two years of possessing a seat in the Dark Council, _Nox,_ one would have expected some results.” 

“You understand how bigoted the Empire is! These changes take time – and I was not so easily accepted into the Council; several wished to deny me the seat because of my heritage. I cannot change minds in such a small amount of time. Some minds, I believe, I cannot change at all.” 

Fendithas didn’t respond, but he instead looked over Altrethir’s shoulder and toward the entrance of the palace. The Sith turned and saw a group of Twi’lek being escorted by Imperial troops. Slaves, without a doubt. Each one had a shock collar around their necks, hands clasped behind their backs with cuffs. Atop a platform in which a Hutt would have sat stood a large figure, clad in black robes. The figure looked the group over, but Altrethir couldn’t tell what it was thinking; it wore a mask. 

“What would your superiors on the Dark Council think if they learned Darth Nox slayed a Sith lord and his own troops, all for the purpose of freeing slaves?” 

The figure reached out and used the force to pull one of the Twi’lek forward. 

“They would want to know why he did it,” Altrethir replied, “then ensure that it doesn’t happen again.” 

“Does your seat on the Council mean more to you than the lives of your people?” 

The figure curled its fingers – Altrethir recognized the gesture immediately. The Twi’lek slave clutched at the invisible fingers wrapping around their throat, gasping and choking for air. 

“Lead by example, Darth Nox. Show your people how you handle abuse.” Fendithas’ voice had changed; instead of one, he heard two speak in unison. His regular voice was accompanied by a much lower, rumbling one. 

But without another thought, Altrethir reached out and snatched the figure’s arm with a Force grip. He made a sharp twist with his hand and snapped the limb, a pained cry echoing, screeching, throughout the room. He drew his lightsaber and rushed toward the figment. As he ignited it, he swiped the blade across its neck, cleanly decapitating the figure. The Imperial troops had raised their blasters to Nox and opened fire. 

The Sith parried the blasts and leapt to one, hacking and swinging with ferocity at his former allies. Using lightning abilities would be too risky; he’d be putting the lives of the Twi’lek in danger. As controlled as his power was, there was always the chance of something going awry. Besides – he'd admit that there was something satisfying in slashing away with his lightsaber. 

The group of Twi’lek cowered once the threat had been eliminated. Nox panted softly, scanning the crowd as he stepped closer toward them, “Claim their blasters as your own, free your fellow slave from their shackles. Through my leadership, we shall create change in the Empire,” he spoke with sincerity in his voice, taking a weapon from a fallen troop and passing it to one of the Twi’lek nearby. They smiled to him, appreciative of his efforts, then did as he commanded. 

“The Empire will refuse change,” a new voice sounded in the air around Nox. No, this voice was not new. It held a sense of familiarity to the Sith. 

Valkorion. 

“When an Empire is built around bigoted ideals, it is impossible to be rid of them.” 

“You built this Empire,” Nox replied, keeping his lightsaber drawn and ignited. “These are _your_ ideals.” 

“I have always valued power. Strength. Success. It matters not what species one is; if they serve me well, they are rewarded.” From the crowd of Twi’lek, Valkorion emerged. He nonchalantly stepped up to Nox, ascending the steps of the platform before him. Out of his peripheral view, Nox saw that Fendithas had disappeared. 

“I would believe that if I hadn’t seen otherwise with my own eyes. Every day, Korriban is sent recruits of all different sorts of species. Time and time again had I witnessed the humans favored. Aliens were sent to the toughest of trials – trials they were not ready for. _I_ experienced that discrimination first-hand.”

“The Empire’s ideals and my own differ now, unfortunately,” Valkorion muttered.

“Then you should have done something about it,” Nox replied sternly, “rather than giving up and starting anew.”

The Emperor gave him a small grin. And as he turned his back to Nox, the palace faded into white. When Nox could see again, he stood upon a balcony, looking over a grand vista of gold. The sun hung low and the sky itself was painted in hues of pink, purple, orange and blue. Gentle, luxurious music sounded from below and, as Nox looked over the ledge, he saw what he could determine was a party. A gala. 

“Zakuul,” Valkorion said, stepping beside Nox, “My greatest masterpiece. The pinnacle of my success. Look upon them, Darth Nox. Zakuul is home to humans, but different species may still call it home. And none are abused as slaves.

“You will find that everyone has an equal opportunity within the Eternal Empire,” Valkorion continued. “I ask you once again to join me. Claim a position of diplomacy, if you would like. You have already earned a respectful reputation within _your_ Empire; I’ve no doubts you would climb the ladder with ease in Zakuul. 

“You would be given a house of luxury. Your crew, your friends and your family, would live in an eternal paradise.” 

Nox heard footsteps approaching from behind. As he turned, he saw his old crew. His loyal, if not menacing, Dashade. His pilot with an attitude that rivaled his own. His apprentice, of whom he’d always admired for her open-mindedness. His cheerful and optimistic Imperial archeologist. And his second apprentice of whom he saved from the wasteland of Korriban. 

There was a sixth figure. 

Altrethir’s expression softened as Theron Shan joined his crew. He gave the Sith a knowing smirk, nodding to him. 

“You would have a sanctuary to fall back to. There would never be any internal conflict. You would be able to save and free slaves across the galaxy. Allow me to grant you my power so that you may break free and live the way you desire.” 

Altrethir looked to Valkorion, hesitation in his scarlet eyes. He felt calm, yet a flutter of excitement coursed through his body. The concept sounded blissfully divine; no more Sith politics to deal with. No more cleaning up the messes the Empire made. No more having to worry about betrayal and backstabbers. 

Then his gaze fell upon the Emperor’s open hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	8. Breaking out of Zakuul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the disappearance of Darth Nox and the Emperor's Wrath, Lana Beniko assembles a small team to break them out of Zakuul; she believes that they are the only hope for the galaxy. They must regain their strength to overthrow Emperor Arcann.

“Through here,” Lana commanded in a half-whisper. Clutching his blaster against his chest, Major Pierce took one last glance at their flank before following her around the corner. The pair stood before a large Zakuulian door; the cameras that monitored activity had been temporarily disabled, leaving them to work undetected. Lana gave a nod to Pierce, then he moved toward the terminal by the door and got to work. 

Lana remained sharp, watching for intruders. Every part of their plan had gone smoothly thus far – certainly something was bound to go wrong now. But, if the situation took a sudden turn for the worse, at least she was good at improvising. 

“Got it,” Pierce said triumphantly, then the doors slid open with a quiet hiss. The room inside was smaller in scale, and the path that led forward brought Lana straight to a pair of prisoners frozen in blocks of carbonite. She felt a chill run up her spine. But, without a second thought, the woman approached and punched a code into the panel beneath the prisoners. 

Within a matter of seconds, the blocks of carbonite began to glow a vibrant red. They were melting – quickly. She retrieved a vial from a pouch on her belt and waited. The first to fully melt was Lord Thexia, but it wasn’t long after that Darth Nox also fell from his block of carbonite. 

Lana had secured a needle at the end of the vial, approaching Thexia and kneeling, “Try not to move. This is going to hurt, but it will save you.” 

Thexia couldn’t see a thing, she could hardly hear the other woman’s voice. She breathed in ragged gasps and suddenly cried in pain as she felt a serum injected into her arm. Lana moved to prepare another shot then injected it into Nox’s arm, receiving the same reaction as Thexia. Lana clicked on her comlink, “Captain, we’ve made it to the prisoners. How are you holding up?” 

“All right for the time being. Can you give me an ETA?” A man’s voice sounded from her speaker. She looked to her fellow Sith, pausing for half a second. 

“Five minutes, given all continues to go according to plan. Thus far, we’re very much on schedule.” 

“Good. I’ll be headin’ to the landing platform soon.” 

Lana shut off her comm, addressing the pair of Sith, “Can you stand? Can you see?” 

“What’s happened? Lana-? Where are we?” Nox asked between pants. His pupils were heavily dilated, as if they were trying to find any light they could. 

“We haven’t the time to talk about much right now. We need to get you to safety first.” She looked to Thexia who wore a similar expression to Nox. The medicine was working, but slower than she anticipated. Lana beckoned Pierce over, “Help her up. We’ll make our way to the meeting area.” 

With a nod, the Major knelt before Thexia. “Good to see you, m’lord. Can you walk?” 

“Pierce? I- I'm unsure.” 

“Then I hope you don’t mind. We _are_ in a bit of a hurry,” he scooped up the Sith and carried her with one arm, retrieving his blaster with his freed hand. 

Lana spoke to Nox, “Your vision should be returning quickly. Let me help you stand,” she took his arm and helped him up, though he struggled at first. His legs felt numb and there was an unpleasant ache in his muscles. Though dizzy and half-blind, Nox rose to his feet with Lana’s assistance. “Walk with me. If it’s too much, I’m sure Major Pierce can carry you, too.” 

“And not have an arm free to shoot at these buckets of bolts?” The soldier huffed. 

“I see a shoulder that isn’t in use,” Lana quipped with a small smirk. Nox shook his head. 

“I can walk, though perhaps you’d be wise not to stray too far ahead.” 

“We’ll be right at your side,” Lana replied, tentatively letting him go so that he could stand for himself. The medicine had begun to take greater effect; he could see the faces of his allies, though still under a subtle blur. The sounds in which he heard were not so cloudy as before. Thexia, on the other hand, still looked ill. Her crimson flesh was pale, her eyes half-lidded as she breathed from her mouth. For a moment, Lana worried she gave her the wrong serum that her species required. 

They got moving. 

The security protocols were held off just until the group was on their way to the rendezvous point. Pierce led the charge while Lana remained a few steps behind, actively checking on Nox. To her pleasant surprise, he seemed to be doing better than she thought he would. Perhaps it was a sorcerer’s trick she didn’t know of. The group then approached a larger door in a security room that blocked their path. 

“I’ll handle this,” Lana said, stepping forth and extending her arms out in front of her. The sounds of metal creaking and groaning echoed through the room; the door strained to open, but Lana could only manage to create a small gap using the Force. She held it there, her lips pursed and brows furrowed, but she couldn’t fully open it. The door snapped close with a _clang_ and Lana huffed in inconvenience. Then, her com beeped. 

“What is it, Captain?”

“Think we’re in a bit of trouble,” the man on the other end of the channel replied. Lana heard blasterfire from her speaker and she blinked. “But it’s nothin’ I can’t handle; we’re just gonna have to meet at a different location.” 

“Unfortunate, but understood. Transfer the coordinates when you can and we’ll be on our way.” She clicked her com off and looked to Nox, “I won’t ask you to help me open this; you should conserve your strength. You might need it for a more immediate situation.” Before he could protest, Lana shifted to face the door again. Focusing, channeling her emotions, the door started to open again. The gap was wider but it still wasn’t fully open. “Go - now!” 

Pierce ducked and rushed through, carrying a nearly unconscious Thexia in his arm. Nox followed and Lana leapt through last, the door slamming shut behind her, a little too close for comfort. As Nox stood, a nearly overwhelming sensation came over him. The presence of an additional Force user was near – one who was immensely powerful; the feeling was similar to the presence of Valkorion. Lana caught him as he stumbled, holding him by his arm. “I sense it, too. That means we’ve run out of time – we need to pick up the pace.” 

Lana received the coordinates and guided her group through tower to tower. And as Nox got a proper look at his surroundings, they struck him; the architecture of the buildings were identical to that of his dream’s. They had been taken prisoner by Zakuul? Why? What happened before he was frozen? The explosion on Marr’s flagship, confronting Valkorion, and- 

Valkorion had been slain. Hardly with Nox’s assistance, even. 

“The sky is indeed lovely, but we must keep moving,” Lana tugged him along. Apparently, he’d stopped for a moment to look outside. 

Through skirmishes and run-ins with Knights of Zakuul, the group finally made their way to the meeting spot. Nox was able to channel some amount of lightning, though it was not as strong as it should have been. He was uncertain if it was a result of being in carbonite or not. Even with just one arm freed, Pierce managed to hit his targets. And Lana, Nox noted, had become stronger since last they met. Her skills were sharper, more elegant and fluid. Refined. She was already an impressive fighter when he first met her, and now her changes were noticeable in a positive manner. 

“We’re here, Captain. Vaylin’s forces are on our tail.” 

“They were on _mine,_ too. I’m here, though. I see you.” And just as her call ended, a Zakuulian ship slowed down for a landing on the platform. 

“I’m going to assume that’s you,” Lana said into her com. 

“Isn’t she gorgeous? Nice, in-tact, unlike my _other_ ship that’s now blown into pieces.” The ship’s entrance ramp descended. Lana beckoned the others to follow, and just as it closed, skytroopers flew onto the loading platform and opened fire at the ship. “Buckle up or hold on,” Captain Remi’vu called from the cockpit, “we’re high-tailing it out of here!” 

Pierce set Thexia down onto a nearby seat in the main room of the ship. To say she was dizzy would be a severe understatement; perhaps it was the side effects of the medicine, but it simply didn’t seem to be doing her much good. The color in her face had returned and her breathing had stabilized. Nox sat beside her, but still kept some space between them. Lana stepped into the room, “I regret to say that there aren’t any refreshments we can offer you, but please catch your breaths. I-… _we,_ should catch you up on some things in the meantime.” Her gaze shifted to Thexia, noting that she was more alert than before. Lana took that as a sign to continue. 

“To begin, you were taken prisoners by Zakuul. Both the Empire and Republic have surrendered to the Eternal Empire. They both are displeased with their circumstances, but use the opportunity of one another’s weakness to attack the other. Emperor Arcann doesn’t do a thing to stop them. Instead of combining their strength to eliminate the bigger threat, the Empire and Republic remain at each other's throats.” Lana huffed, pausing to also take a breath. “Emperor Arcann has his grip on most of the power within the galaxy. Needless to say, the Eternal Empire is a threat, even without Valkorion. The Dark Council has unfortunately disbanded; Empress Acina now oversees the Empire.” 

Nox’s gaze dropped to his hands upon his lap, clearly disturbed by the news. Thexia was slower to process Lana’s words but she, too, expressed uneasiness. 

“How long were we kept prisoner?” Nox asked. 

“Five years,” answered Lana. 

Thexia felt an ache in her gut, her mouth fell slightly open. Nox couldn’t muster a reply and, instead, waited for Lana to continue. But, instead, the woman turned to look toward the cockpit. From the other room, a familiar face to Nox emerged. His expression softened, relieved to see someone he considered close. 

“Ashara,” the man breathed, standing to properly address his former apprentice. He could feel her sorrow, regret but relief. She was a bundle of mixed emotions and Nox felt almost overwhelmed when he tried to sense them further. Still, she held herself with a sense of pride; she stood tall, shoulders back and chin up. He could tell that she had changed, for the youthful glint that was ever-present in her eyes was now gone. 

“My lord,” Ashara replied with a polite dip of her head. “I... I hardly have words. I never wanted to believe you were dead. I never could.” 

“The ship is small, but if you two need a more private setting to talk, there looks to be some space in the engine room,” Lana gestured to a spare room off to the side. “In the meantime, I’m going to see what I can do to help the Captain.” She turned on her heel and made her way into the cockpit, claiming a seat beside Remi’vu. Ashara glanced between the room and Nox. Without a word, he walked with her into the engineering room, leaving Thexia and Pierce to talk between themselves. 

* * *

“The crew parted ways not too long after you disappeared,” Ashara began once they had some privacy, “Their loyalty to you was unwavering when you were around. Without you there to lead them, they felt lost. _I_ felt lost.” She clasped her hands at her front, “I realized I relied too heavily on others but I still wanted to learn. The Jedi rejected me, the Sith wouldn’t take someone with my ideals, either. I took to traveling the galaxy, helping those who needed it, and learned a lot about myself in the process.” 

“You did what was important to you. I’m sorry I could not be there to lend my aid.” 

“It was your absence that made me realize what I did,” Ashara replied, “I understand your sentiment, but please don’t be sorry.” 

“Yet after all this time and all of these conflicting thoughts, you helped rescue me. Why, Ashara?” 

“I’d be lying if I said my only reason was to better the galaxy. Lana contacted me, told me where you were and that you were taken prisoner. I’ve witnessed you do incredible things before – I have faith you can do more. And, I... missed you. I missed fighting by your side.” Ashara diverted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. She swallowed dryly and shifted her weight more to one foot, “You’ve defeated lots of people who’ve fallen to corruption. What’s one more? Emperor Arcann threatens the galaxy. Let me fight with you – as an equal – to stop him.” 

Nox recalled her attitude and demeanor before his disappearance; she was open-minded, though still heeded caution. She was curious and meek, but outspoken about that which concerned her. Now, she cut right to the chase; she spoke her mind, talking with sincerity and confidence in her voice. It was a significant change, but one he openly welcomed. 

“I would love nothing more,” Nox replied, a hint of a smile perking the corners of his lips. Ashara’s brows raised slightly in surprise and she, too, managed a smile of her own. 

“Good. Thank you, Darth Nox. I’m honored.” 

He watched as she politely bowed her head, yet something churned in his gut. He recalled what Lana said about the Dark Council; if they were truly disbanded, then his title and rank meant nothing anymore. Or, perhaps Darth Nox was a well-known name across the galaxy as one of the individuals who killed Emperor Valkorion. That’d certainly be _flattering_. And, as Ashara said, if they were to be working with one another as equals, dropping formal title would only help solidify that. After a moment’s pause, he spoke up, “Altrethir.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“My name, Ashara.” 

“Oh-” she blinked as she laughed sheepishly, “right. Of course, sorry. I’ve only heard it spoken maybe once or twice throughout all our time together. Everyone referred to you as ‘lord’ or ‘Sith.’” 

“If the changes in the galaxy are as significant as Lana describes, then I see no need for titles,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Playing a role as a member of the Dark Council was one of the most important things to me, but that chapter has come to an end.” 

“You’re still you,” Ashara said, “and it was your wits and skill that got you that far in the first place. Fate dealt you a terrible hand of cards but you still played them to win. You won, _and_ more. Which is why I think if anyone can stop Arcann, it’s you. You’ve always been good at beating the odds.” Sincerity graced her words, gentle in tone. 

Altrethir gave a small nod, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “Then let’s hope I still have what it takes.” 

“I’ve got a feeling you do,” Ashara replied with a faint grin. 

* * *

Ashara and Nox secured their privacy to talk within the engine room, Lana went back into the cockpit with Remi’vu, and Thexia was left with Pierce. All the things she wanted to ask him; what happened to the crew? Her ship? The Hand? Darth Vowrawn? And what of the others who were taken prisoner on Valkorion’s ship? Her half-brother? 

“Reckon you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Pierce muttered, as if he read her thoughts. Thexia’s reaction-time was slowed but she turned her head to look to him. “I’ll let you ask at your own pace. Don’t wanna overwhelm you.” 

_Why are you here but not Quinn?_

“Sit. The crew. Where are they?” She asked instead. 

Pierce slid into the seat beside her, keeping a respectful amount of distance between them, and crossed his arms over his armored chest. “Vette mentioned something about going off to find work. Thievin’ again, probably. Your apprentice went her own separate way after she realized she couldn’t reach you with her powers. Broonmark just,” he paused, his face scrunching up a bit in thought. “Well, he sort of disappeared without a word. Thought he might’ve gotten himself killed, who knows. Took us a while to even notice he was gone. And _Quinn,_ ” his name spilled from his lips like venom, “last I heard was searchin’ high and low for you. Not sure what happened to him, but Lana might know.” 

Thexia shifted in her seat, her gaze lowering beneath furrowed brows. With her level of fatigue and separation from the Force for so long, there was no way she could try and feel Quinn's presence. Yet something in the back of her mind told her he was alive. Had he been taken prisoner by Zakuul, too? She wanted to believe his loyalty to her came first, but his loyalty to the Empire would follow as a very close second. She wondered if he’d rebelled against Zakuul and landed himself in prison, or if he feigned his loyalty to Zakuul until its moment of inevitable weakness. He was a talented strategist; perhaps he would have gone with the latter of her two theories. 

“My superiors stuck me at a desk job, pulled me off the battlefield,” Pierce continued. “Lana got me out. Suppose I owe her a great deal for that.” 

“You work directly under her now?” Thexia inquired, but Pierce shook his head. 

“Not really, m’lord. Weren’t any paperwork or contracts. I just wanted to see some damn action again.” 

The woman gave a small nod and stood- way too fast. She saw stars and caught herself on the table before she fell over. She heard Pierce tell her to take it easy but brushed him off, trudging into the cockpit of the ship. As her vision cleared, she saw the familiar Mirialan captain from Marr’s flagship. She squinted. Had he always had a mechanical hand? 

“Feeling better?” Lana asked, turning to look to the other Sith. 

“That’s not my biggest concern,” Thexia replied, “tell me where Captain Quinn is. And Agent Alamor.” 

Lana spun the seat around to better face her, draping an arm across the back of the chair. “I apologize, but I’ve lost all contact with Agent Alamor. My best guess is that he’s gone into hiding, or is operating under a new name. His career has forced him to change names and erase his files before, he may be in a similar situation now.” Lana moved her arm and folded her hands atop her lap, “Captain Quinn is in Imperial prison.” 

Thexia felt her breath catch in her throat, speechless for just a moment. “For what reason?”

“There were certain individuals of significant power who wanted you to remain missing, Wrath. I’m sure you have your own guesses as to who those are, but nevertheless; Captain Quinn went against orders to stop his search and was taken under arrest. It all happened within a year of your disappearance.” 

“And you didn’t find a way to free him?” Thexia felt herself growing hot with anger; though her words were irate in tone, she wasn’t particularly upset with Lana herself. 

“With respect, attempts _were_ made. But if we weren’t careful, our own intentions could have been found out, then we would have _all_ been under arrest. Work with us, one step at a time, and we will free your captain the moment we’re able to.” 

“Hah, hey. Think I know why this thing was just lyin’ around,” Remi’vu chimed in, flicking a couple of switches on the control panel. “Engine problems, though minor, along with a nearly empty fuel tank and low battery life. Piece of junk.” 

“I take it that’s not nearly enough to get us to Odessen?” Lana asked. 

“Not in the slightest. Gonna have to make an emergency landing.” 

Remi’vu steered the ship through the Zakuulian traffic, blending in perfectly. As they neared the exit of the tunnel, he took a dip and headed toward a large plain of dense trees. Night had fallen; landing the ship without light wasn’t an easy feat, but with Lana’s assistance on the scanners, they managed to make a graceful touchdown. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	9. The Forests of Zakuul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a daring rescue, Lana Beniko and Captain Remi'vu make an emergency landing deep within the jungles of Zakuul. Darth Nox and the Emperor's Wrath have opportunities to catch up with their old crewmates, but the forests aren't exactly peaceful.

“Our best course of action is to split into pairs to find supplies,” Lana said, following the rest of the group off the ship. “The jungle is filled with refugees and outcasts, abandoned ships and hostile wildlife. We’ll need rations and drinking water and fuel for the ship.” 

“I’ll stay here and see what I can do about the engine,” Remi’vu said, jerking a thumb back to the ship. “Keep your comms open just in case.” 

“I’ll take Ashara to locate food and water,” said Altrethir as the Togruta joined his side. Lana gave an acknowledging nod before looking to Thexia. 

“That leaves finding fuel to you, Wrath.” 

“Pierce, keep your blaster ready. There’s bound to be trouble ahead,” the Sith said, beckoning for her former companion to follow. They wasted no time in heading out into the jungle. 

“Keep us updated,” Altrethir told Lana before heading a different direction with Ashara. 

* * *

Only a sliver of light illuminated the woods; stars above flickered in the blackened sky, but their glow was just out of reach. Fortunately, some of the alien plant life was bioluminescent. Teal mushrooms varying in size sprouted near the trunks of some trees, emitting a soft but comforting hue. And as they ventured further into the jungle, the soil and grass below their feet had turned soggy. Droplets of water fell from the heights of the trees above, plopping onto the pair occasionally. 

“Looks like we just missed a downpour,” Ashara commented, following closely behind Altrethir. 

“I suppose we should be thankful for that,” he replied with a small smirk. They continued their search, stepping over shrubs and hiking up a hill or two. Altrethir had nearly tripped at least once; whether his fumble was because of the carbonite effects or simply because he couldn’t see the rock in front of him, he wasn’t sure. Possibly both. Thus far, the only wildlife they’d seen were small amphibious creatures – hardly anything hostile. The critters scattered the moment they heard larger footsteps approaching. 

But after fifteen minutes of walking, the two caught a glance of something that looked like water. A spring lied ahead, surrounded by branches that covered three-quarters of it in a spherical shape. Had they approached from the opposite end, they might’ve overlooked it entirely. Bioluminescent mushrooms grew around the spring, providing a substantial amount of light. Ashara walked closer and knelt before the water, retrieving her scanner to inspect the water. Once the sensors gave a green light, her mouth perked into a smile, “It’s our lucky day. There’s even enough space to set up a small camp here if we need to.” 

Altrethir moved beside her and squatted down, looking over the water himself before filling his canteen. The taste of water was so foreign; he hadn’t realized how dry his throat was until he drank. He pulled the flask away from his lips after gulping down more than he realized. Ashara watched him with concerned curiosity then reached into her belt pouch, “Here- you’re probably starving. Not sure how someone’s body is affected after five years in carbonite, but I’ll bet food will still be good for you anyway.” She passed him a small blue box. Altrethir shifted to sit on the ground and opened it. Inside lied a few small biscuits, squares of veg-meat, and a nutrition bar. 

“Even if you’re not hungry, eating something wouldn’t hurt,” Ashara said with a half-hearted shrug, leaning forward to fill her own canteen with water. Altrethir gave her his thanks before nibbling a biscuit. The taste was that of bland bread, but such was to be expected. Though once he’d finished it, he heard his stomach growl, as if the food had awoken his hunger. His eyes flicked over to Ashara as if to silently ask for her approval to eat more, and she gave a nod, smirking. 

“It’s... it’s an odd feeling, my lord, to be back with you again,” Ashara said quietly as Altrethir finished a square of veg-meat. “I feel like I have so much to tell you but I don’t know where or how to start.” 

“Just speak your mind, I’m listening.” 

“Then I won’t dwell on what you already know and I won’t repeat myself.” She pushed herself up then held out a hand to help him up. Altrethir closed the box and set it by their flasks before accepting her assistance to stand. “I kept your recordings. Not only your lessons, but your study entries and your archeological journals, too. I listened to them; I missed your voice, your presence. That was before I sought out my own path,” she paused, reading his face. He held a neutral expression; but his eyes that many would deem intimidating held a certain softness to her. She continued, “I wouldn’t get rid of those but I had forgotten about them for some years, until Lana reached out to me. 

“I felt a rush of excitement; my mind wandered and wandered and I...” Ashara hesitated, her gaze dipping to the ground at their feet. She took a breath and looked to him once more, “I realized I had feelings for you.” 

The Sith’s brows raised in surprise. He couldn’t say that he was totally oblivious to her feelings, but he hadn’t expected a confession, nor did he expect it so soon.

How long had her feelings lied dormant, he wondered. If she made any advances on him during their time as master and apprentice, he would have certainly refused them. To be in a relationship with one who was his subordinate – his apprentice, someone he personally trained and mentored – didn't sit right with him. Many Sith participated in the practice and didn’t care; it was almost encouraged in the culture. Perhaps it was due to his background, that he was once a slave and dealt with unspeakable things, that he simply couldn’t bring himself to be open to the idea. 

Yet now, Ashara was his equal. While her skills were currently unknown to him, he had no doubt that she’d grown significantly stronger; he could feel her power. She was hardly the person he remembered, either. And somewhere deep down, he did find her level of confidence attractive.

But conflicting with those thoughts, Altrethir’s heart was already captured by Theron Shan. And more than one partner would simply be too much for him to keep up with. But did the man even retain feelings for the Sith after all these years? Had he found someone else?

 _Was he even still alive?_ Lana never made mention of him; certainly, she would have at some point. She and Theron worked closely together through and during the events that led up to the Emperor’s awakening. Altrethir made a mental note to inquire of his whereabouts when they returned to the ship. For now, he addressed the situation at hand:

“Ashara,” his voice hardly above a whisper, “I’m sorry. We cannot-”

“I understand,” she replied almost a bit too quickly, as if she’d prepared for his response. Her heart ached, but she didn't need to dwell on the matter. “I thought you should have a right to know. We’ll get back to the others, forget this happened.” She stepped away from Altrethir and scooped her flask up off the ground, biting the inside of her cheek as she turned to start heading back to the ship. 

* * *

There was no path to follow; the floors of the woods were covered by grass, moss, rocks and bioluminescent mushrooms. Navigating by itself wasn’t easy, but Thexia and Pierce continued their way through, searching for wreckage of other ships. As they looked, the Sith couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them. Even with her connection to the Force still foggy, she felt eyes upon them. She recalled what Lana said about the potential dangers of the jungle; they could easily run into hostile wild animals or even hostile refugees. She didn’t fear resorting to violence if they wanted to get in her way. 

Neither she nor Pierce was chatty during their walk. While Pierce was eager to face enemies, he knew how Thexia planned: _she_ was the predator, watching and lurking until she decided to strike. And he followed. Even if he didn’t like lying in wait, he’d witnessed unfortunate individuals back-talk her – and said individuals were either sent to the med bay or lost their life altogether, depending on the severity. His lord’s morals were based around her own code of honor, from what he noticed. She could be needlessly cruel, but unnecessarily merciful as well. 

But if he was looking forward to just one thing, it was the thrill of a fight. 

Typically, Thexia had her lapdog of a captain assist her on the battlefield; but in some instances, she required the more aggressive approach that Pierce excelled in. Such as their mission on Hoth, or their shorter time together on Taris. He’d never forget how he’d been bested, wounded and ready to die at the hands of Republic scum; he’d said his farewells to Thexia and was ready to face death. And with the last of his men defeated, the Sith came through like an unrelenting storm. The Republic troops weren’t a match for her blades. The blur of her lightsabers was nearly captivating as she twirled them and cut down their enemies, her movements were like that of a swift but graceful dance. Pierce always felt that it was a great honor to see Sith fight firsthand. 

Then, Thexia slowed her pace and came to a slow halt. She held out a hand, indicating for Pierce to stop behind her. An abandoned starship lied ripe for the taking, concealed by only a few fallen branches. Given what she’d felt since they started their hike, it was likely that the ship was trapped. They approached with caution and inspected the condition of the craft. It’d been abandoned for some time; moss and weeds grew around the base, vines had crept up onto the wings. The entrance to the ship was opened and so they headed inside, Pierce keeping a watch behind them. 

Thexia sensed additional individuals nearby, her feelings stronger once they’d entered the ship. It was nearly pitch black and near impossible to see. Thankfully, Pierce retrieved a small flashlight from his belt and clicked it on. The light it provided was just pleasantly enough. They located the cockpit and managed to open the fuel tank. Without turning the ship on, they couldn’t tell how full the tank was, or it had fuel at all. 

“Pierce, wait,” Thexia whispered, grabbing the man by his shoulder before he left the cockpit. She drew one of her lightsabers at her hip but didn’t ignite it. As she turned the corner of the doorframe, her Force sensitivity peaked. Her scarlet blade ignited with a snap and a hiss and she pointed it toward a human, aiming a blaster straight at her. The stranger’s eyes were wide with fear, his arm quivering as he gulped. He didn’t even have time to react as Thexia abruptly tossed his weapon aside with a Force pull. “Hesitation should have gotten you killed,” the Sith spoke, her tone dark, menacing. “If you’re going to get in our way, I’d suggest you move before I lose my patience.” 

“S-sorry, miss-. I- you, uh, I’ve just never s-seen anyone like you.” 

He was just a kid, Pierce noted, probably not even out of his teenage years. The Major looked between his lord and the stranger, his own blaster at the ready. Keeping her blade up, she continued, “Leave us.” 

The boy nodded quickly and raised his arms in surrender as he walked off the ship. Though she felt him gain distance from them, she still felt others nearby. “Let’s make this quick,” she told Pierce, “I can smell an ambush.” 

Pierce prepped a fuel container next to the tank and began the transfer. The machine sputtered a few times and he clicked his tongue in disappointment, “Can’t tell if it’s just warmin’ up or if it’s almost empty, m’lord.” 

“Give it a moment, but that’s all the time we can spare.” 

“As you say.” As the Major turned to check the status, he felt a sudden sharpness prick the side of his neck. Before he knew what’d happened, his head started spinning and he toppled over with a solid thud. Thexia whipped around and rushed over to him, checking for a pulse when she noticed a dart lodged into his neck. Her eyes widened. 

Thexia lied him down, plucked out the dart and quickly rose to her feet. She started to work herself up, quickening her breathing pattern to speed up the rate of her heart, forcing her adrenaline to kick in. The Sith thrust both arms forward, away from the ship and out toward the woods, unleashing a large wave of force that blew back the shrubs, grass, and successfully knocked over two people hiding within them. 

_There._

She snatched one of her sabers up and ignited it, leaping toward the scout on her left and cleaving him in two. From her peripheral vision she saw shots firing toward her, missing and hitting the nearby tree. Thexia raised her free arm and caught the other scout, yanking him toward her and burying her blade within his chest in a single movement. She heard other people shouting in a language she wasn’t familiar with. They were boxing her in. 

Given her fatigue, Thexia was uncertain if she’d be able to rely heavily on the Force to aid her in the battle. So, she drew her second saber, igniting it and effortlessly slicing through a scout who charged to her with a vibroblade. Blasters fired from scouts using the trees as cover; the Sith managed to deflect most, evading those that she couldn’t parry. She leapt to one and slashed his blaster before decapitating him with her other blade. She dashed to the next but ducked to avoid the shots, crouching then pouncing to the scout and stabbing her sabers into his chest. 

Her heart pounded in her ears now; she felt her heat of rage coursing through her veins. The feeling was magnificent – refreshingly blissful. Seldom did she have such a lust for blood; being kept from unleashing her frustrations for five years was akin to that of unshackling a caged, starving animal. 

Nearly ten scouts had now fallen to her blades. Perhaps one wouldn’t consider it ideal to slay potential allies, but any chances for negotiating were out the window when they tranquilized Pierce. Once the threat appeared to be quelled, Thexia observed her surroundings. Her jaw was clenched, fists gripping her sabers still, and her orange eyes flicked from tree to tree, attempting to find any other scouts who hid. Then she pivoted on her heel, raising a saber to someone who approached behind her. 

It was the boy from the ship. 

“You- you killed them all,” he stammered, voice shaking, “Why?” 

“ _Why?_ ” Thexia snapped, “They shot my ally with a sleeping dart then opened fire on me.” 

“They were my friends. I-I don’t have a blaster, please-… l-lower your weapon.” 

“No,” Thexia sneered. She heard shifting behind her and whipped around to see-. 

“Agh, shit. A thousand apologies, m’lord. I should’a seen somethin’ like that comin’,” Pierce grumbled, rubbing his neck. He looked between the two, a brow raised, “The kid’s back.” 

“And he set up the ambush. Or, was involved with it at the very least.” The boy started to protest but Thexia interrupted him, “Major. It is indeed a pity that you were asleep for the fight. I shall grant you this kill.” 

He grunted in reply. It wasn’t much of a kill at all; he preferred a good fight, preferred to earn his kills. A small part of him didn’t like slaying unarmed troops, especially ones so young. But the consequences of going against his lord’s orders – no, not an order, even, but a privilege – outweighed that feeling. Pierce drew his blaster, “Thank you, m’lord,” he muttered, firing a single shot at the other man. He fell to the grass below. 

Thexia wordlessly turned and checked on the status of the fuel tank. “Ah, there was something in here after all. Our efforts didn’t go to waste.” Pierce moved to her side as she continued, “Half of a tank, but that should be enough.” 

“Hopefully. I’ll carry that back to the ship once its filled,” the Major replied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	10. Finding the Gravestone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altrethir and Ashara discover a giant, ancient spacecraft rotting away in the forest. Piquing Captain Remi'vu's interest, they all head over to have a look for themselves.

Thexia and Major Pierce were the first group to return to the ship. Pierce hauled a tank half-full with fuel upon his shoulder. They could hear clattering and metal banging within the ship, guessing that the captain was working on repairing the engine. Lana sat outside, meditating but keeping her senses sharp. She stood to greet the pair as they approached, “Any luck?” 

“Half a tank,” Thexia said, gesturing for Pierce to set the container down. “We were ambushed by refugees.” 

Lana’s brow furrowed, “Are you injured?” 

“No, we’re fine,” Thexia waved a hand dismissively then looked to Pierce, “Fuel the ship and see if you can lend a hand to the captain.” The man nodded and headed off to do as commanded. Lana watched him leave and tentatively looked to the other Sith, her forehead still wrinkled in a hint of concern. 

“Now that we’ve a moment alone, may I... inquire about something?” 

“Given I can provide the answers,” replied Thexia, “Go on.” 

“I am unsure if you’ve noticed, but something feels off about Nox. Were it a subtle change in his power, I certainly would have glossed over it. But his aura – it's vastly different than from what I recall.” And what Lana _wouldn’t_ tell her was that she sensed a similar aura with her, too. She couldn’t think of any reasons as to why both of their abilities would heighten in power whilst locked away in carbonite; there was simply no logical, scientific explanation for it. “What happened before you were imprisoned?” 

“I cannot recall much,” Thexia admitted, “but we were taken prisoner by Prince Arcann. We found the Emperor – the Sith Emperor, Valkorion. He was to have us executed, but Arcann broke our shackles. We slayed the Emperor. I don’t know what happened after that.” 

Lana huffed in amusement; “So Arcann orchestrated the downfall of his father. I knew something wasn’t right. Shortly after Marr’s flagship was destroyed, Zakuul received a holo message from Arcann. He claimed outlanders assassinated the Emperor, then declared himself the new ruler of Zakuul.” 

“Regardless of what he’s done to the galaxy, I’m claiming my revenge,” Thexia hissed, “Arcann took five years of my life from me. I should kill him, but I am open to ways in which I can make him suffer immensely.” 

“I will not get in your way of dispensing justice, Wrath. But for now, we must play strategically. I have a greater plan once the captain has the ship running again.” 

As Thexia nodded in reply, Remi’vu sauntered down the ramp of the ship and wiped his brow, “Almost good to go. I think. Hunk of junk was in worse shape than I thought,” he placed his hands atop his hips, shifting his weight to lean against a pole. “And here come the last two. I’ll get back to it in the meantime.” 

“Had any of you seen the giant ship further out into the jungle?” Altrethir asked, gesturing behind him with a jerk of his thumb. Remi’vu paused mid-step, slowly turning his head. 

“What ship?” 

* * *

“Holy SHIT. By the tits of the Force - would you _look_ at that thing? It’s- it’s huge! You weren’t kiddin’!” Remi’vu threw his arms out at his sides, laughing as he craned his neck up to look at the absolute size of the vessel. The rest of the crew followed behind, peering up at the giant spacecraft themselves. Lana retrieved her scanner and tapped a few buttons on the device before it got to work. Altrethir and Ashara approached further, discovering an entrance to the ship covered by long, hanging vines and branches; it was nearly unnoticeable. 

“This doesn’t look anything like Zakuulian design, or anything modern to that matter,” Ashara said quietly, having now taken a decent look at the interior. Altrethir pushed aside some of the vines and hummed lowly in thought. He sensed only passive life-forms within; they were distant, but it was difficult to determine if they were refugees or wildlife. As he glanced to Ashara, he could tell she was wary, too. 

“So, it’s merely a pile of ancient scrap,” Altrethir suggested. Remi’vu walked up behind them, thumbing his chin in thought as he looked inside. He stepped just into the doorframe, feeling the wall with his in-tact hand. The Sith watched him keenly, “You look positively captivated, captain.” 

“The size, the style, the estimation of age – am I going crazy, or is this the legendary _Gravestone_?” 

“Legendary?” 

“Never heard of it? Guess you Sith just study ancient Force stuff. Not really ships, huh? The _Gravestone’s_ recorded as the only ship that’s fought the Eternal Fleet and won. Centuries ago, I mean. But it disappeared and people have been lookin’ for it ever since. This thing’s been _here_ all this time? I mean, I’d believe it. Got all kinds of shit growin’ around it.” 

“Perhaps we ought to take a look inside before we’re certain. And before our hopes get too high,” Lana said, walking up to the three, “Besides; I also cannot shake the feeling that something is off. It is awfully convenient that we just so happen to stumble upon such a powerful ship.” 

“The Force works in mysterious ways,” Ashara commented, receiving a small smirk from Altrethir. Lana huffed a small sigh and shook her head. 

“I suppose it does. Let us look around with caution.” 

* * *

Thexia and Major Pierce were put on watch-duty. Frankly, Pierce felt antsy; he’d been robbed of a good fight earlier and now he was stuck to lie in wait for anything threatening. He sat on a nearby rock, somewhat slumped over as he drummed his fingers atop his knee. He looked to his right. The Sith sat upon her knees, hands on her thighs, her half-lidded eyes staring forward. He recognized she was meditating and then averted his gaze elsewhere. They’d been out here for a number of minutes; the others went into the mysterious ship to take a better look around. 

“I sense that you’re discontent, Major,” Thexia said, unmoving. Pierce shifted in his seat and crossed a leg over the other. 

“Apologies, m’lord. Y’know me – would rather be blastin’ somethin’ than idly sittin’ here.” 

“Then you will have plenty of energy for when the battle inevitably arrives,” she replied, turning her head slightly to meet his eyes. He nodded and leaned forward a bit, pausing before continuing their conversation with a small shift in topic. 

“Lana’s been talkin’ about forming some kind of alliance. One with people from all factions of the galaxy who want to rise up against the Eternal Empire. Not sure how exactly she’s plannin’ to pull it off, but it sounds like it could have potential. If it gets the right kind of people.” 

Thexia listened, her interest piqued. This had to be the plan she referred to earlier. She never took Lana to be the leader-type; she always seemed like one who preferred working behind the scenes. Had she gathered more allies in Thexia’s absence? Or was she working with unmentioned individuals to create this alliance? “It would be in our best interest to help her with that,” said the Wrath, a small smile perking her lips. “I must admit, it feels good to be working with a team again.” 

“It’s an interestin’ bunch, but not a whole lot different from the old crew. Lana’s been good at planning. That Ashara girl reminds me of Jaesa. The cap’n’s got spunk like Vette had. Hell, I prefer him over Quinn at least. Seems like the kind’a guy I can share a beer with.” 

“I kept the peace between you and Captain Quinn back then – how did you manage after I disappeared?” 

Pierce let out a gruff chuckle, “You want the honest truth, m’lord?” 

“It’s what I expect, Major.” 

He sat up straight, moving an arm behind him to recline against, “He got all offended that some of us didn’t wanna stick around to help him find you. Didn’t understand that some of us _weren’t_ dedicated strictly to serving the Wrath. Didn’t understand why some of us didn’t want to go against orders to stop searchin’, either. Got into a pretty heated argument,” Pierce hesitated, wondering how much detail she cared to hear. “Clocked him right in the face, I did. Definitely wasn’t a smart career choice, but I was outt’a there before he could do much. Reckon his arrest came soon after. I overheard Lana tellin’ you about what’d happened with him.” 

Thexia was quiet as she listened, her lips formed a small frown. She wasn’t upset nor angry with his choices; and typically, she’d encourage his anger. Though the thought of his large fist colliding with her husband’s face made her gut churn, she wouldn’t hold Pierce’s actions against him. If – _when_ – the day came that she and Quinn were reunited, she’d be certain such circumstances wouldn’t occur again. 

“There’s another matter you ought to know about, m’lord,” the man continued, “the old crew knows about what happened on that transponder vessel. The one the captain took you to before we rescued Darth Vowrawn on Corellia.” 

Her breath hitched. “How? How did you come by that information?” 

“Your apprentice, m’lord. The captain was getting' all huffy, we wanted to make sure he wasn’t just wantin’ to find you for his own personal reasons. She found what she was looking for and more.” Pierce left it at that, allowing Thexia to connect the dots for herself. And she did, feeling the heat of anger rising to her face. “None of us felt good about being left in the dark. Tension was thick as mud without you around and when we all learned about what happened on that vessel, it was the final nail in the coffin. The whole crew split up soon after.” 

“His actions resulted in punishment; it was clear to him, but it was dealt with discreetly. He wasn’t simply let off the hook.” 

“I’ve no doubt of that, m’lord,” Pierce replied, “s’ppose we all felt we should’ve had a right to know, is all.” 

“If I thought the matter needed further addressing, then I _would_ have concerned the lot of you. You insult me by not trusting my judgement,” Thexia spoke through a clenched jaw, her words somewhat venomous in tone. Pierce, wisely opting to not argue with an angry Sith, simply nodded. 

“Yes, m’lord. Of course.” 

* * *

The interior of the ancient space vessel was grand; though nearly every inch of the craft was covered in some plant life or another, its sheer size was magnificent by itself. Captain Remi’vu ran his mechanical hand along the wall of the hallway that brought them into a tall room. Without much light to guide their way, all he saw when he looked up was a black abyss. Tables and some chairs lined the edges of the rounded room and, at the center, lied a counter. Moss hung low from the centerpiece attached from the ceiling, alien flowers adorning it. “Looks like some kind of mess hall,” Remi’vu commented, “No one ever knew the layout of this thing, but I’ve got a feeling the engine room’s somewhere nearby.” 

“Nox and I shall search for it,” Lana said, beckoning the Twi’lek along before he could agree. 

Altrethir followed Lana through the darkened corridors of the ship, using just their own illumination probe to light the way. Now better in-tune with his senses, he realized he had more questions for her. He, of course, wanted to inquire about Theron Shan, then the state of the Empire in greater detail. He wanted to ask about the Dark Council and how they initially handled the surrender to Zakuul. He wanted to know how it’d changed when he and Darth Marr disappeared, or if it even changed much at all. 

“Nox,” Lana quietly said, slowing to a halt, “there is something I need to tell you.” 

The man raised a brow, nodding for her to go on. 

“Something feels off about the Wrath. In the Force, I mean to say. She has gained an immense increase in power than the very last time we spoke. Were it subtle, I wouldn’t have noticed. But it concerns me.” 

Altrethir’s eyes narrowed away from Lana in thought. Tentatively, he replied, “I’ve noticed it, too. You’re not mistaken.” 

“Do you have any hypotheses as to why?” 

Altrethir recalled his dreams – the dreams he had while frozen in carbonite – in which the Emperor had appeared to him, attempting to sway him into accepting his power. And then, he recalled how Valkorion initially asked both he and the Wrath to kneel to him upon his flagship, the day they were imprisoned. Valkorion wanted both of them. But certainly he only needed one Sith to accomplish what he sought? Had he appeared to Altrethir first in his dreams, or perhaps he appeared to both at once? 

His mind was thinking at too quick of a rate; his theories jumbled together, his train of thought became clouded and muddy. He couldn’t get too far ahead of himself; he’d need to speak with the Wrath first to gain some clarification. So, for now, he looked down to Lana again, “I have some.” 

“Go on, I’m listening.” 

Altrethir hesitated; did he trust Lana with this knowledge? She was the one who tracked them down to free them from carbonite in the first place; if anyone was to know, it should be her. “As a start, Valkorion inhabits my mind.” 

Lana paused mid-step, blinking, “He _what?_ ” 

Altrethir motioned for her to continue walking, following behind as they talked, “The Emperor’s physical form may have been destroyed but, even as Darth Marr said on board his flagship, eliminating it has only weakened him. My theory is that he fled into my mind – or the Wrath’s, or both of ours – so that he could use one of our bodies as his own someday. He offered the Wrath and I a place at his side on the flagship. And in my own dreams, I recall him offering me power, too.” 

“That is-… I’m not sure what to make of that,” Lana sighed, brushing aside some low hanging moss. “Does he speak to you?” 

“Only in my dreams while I was frozen,” Altrethir replied, “but he’s been silent since I’ve awoken.” 

Lana chewed the inside of her cheek. Part of her was concerned that the Wrath made no mention of any dreams featuring the Emperor. What if he appeared to her and she accepted his “gift of power?” Was the woman she spoke with truly Thexia Matua, or was she now a mere puppet? A closer feel of her aura would determine that. Lana hoped. 

“Lana,” Altrethir called after a momentary pause. “Where is Theron Shan?” 

“His whereabouts are unknown. And I cannot say for certain, but I’ve some reasons to believe he’s been sending me information regarding Zakuul. We may not be directly working together, but he knew of my endeavor in freeing you and the Wrath. I suppose he wanted to lend his aid without drawing too much attention.” 

Altrethir nodded. That sounded like him, at the very least. Still, he was hoping to be greeted by the agent when he awakened from carbonite. 

“ _If_ all goes according to plan and if we are to maintain a decent schedule,” the woman continued, “I do believe you’ll be seeing him again soon enough.” 

“Good. There are some things that I’ve been meaning to say to him.” 

“I can imagine,” Lana tossed him a small grin before stepping over a fallen hunk of metal. 

“What of my brother? The Barsen’thor of the Jedi Council?” 

“His location is unknown,” Lana replied, “but we believe he was frozen in carbonite just as you and the Wrath were. I’m uncertain if he was stored in the same facility or if he was released before you. We may pursue his whereabouts if you wish. For now, let us continue to take things one step at a time. Ah- this looks to be what we need,” she stepped through a half-open door. The room was large and dark, as to be expected. Debris and plant life covered most of the engine consoles and mechanisms. She huffed in amusement, side-glancing toward the man, “Let’s get to work, shall we?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	11. The Gravestone takes Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thexia's deep meditation brings her into a vivid flashback of an incident she'd not thought about in years.

The transponder vessel: a class-A starship that was the key to their clearance on Corellia. Were it not for the new law enacted by Baras himself, the Wrath and her crew could have otherwise landed on the planet without trouble. But their guess was that her former master ushered the law into place to deter her; Baras’ assassins scoured Imperial territory on Corellia in search of Darth Vowrawn: an important figure to aid her in stopping Baras. 

It was with her captain’s help that Thexia discovered this ship. And with his knowledge in navigating the craft, they’d board and take the signal transmitter for their own, granting her starship clearance into Corellia. 

They docked and went fairly unnoticed and undisturbed, Thexia only needing to Force-persuade some Imperial troops to move along. Captain Quinn guised himself in the armor of an Imperial troop, helmet and all, blending in with the others on board the ship. The Sith needn’t worry about uniforms for herself; she’d taken the mask she only seldom wore and used that to hide her face. 

Making a small number of turns throughout the vessel, Quinn brought them into a smaller, empty room. Thexia followed him inside, expecting him to move further ahead to unlock the door that sat at the opposite end of the room. But he stopped in the center. Her eyes fell upon him and she sensed his emotions waver. Her breath hitched as she felt his feelings. 

“Captain,” she said, staying where she was. After she spoke, the door behind her slid shut. Thexia lofted a brow and turned back to him, “If you wanted some alone time, I could have booked us a lovely place in Dromund Kaas,” she pulled her mask off. 

“No, my lord,” Quinn replied in a tone she’d not heard before. He tugged off the helmet that hid his face but kept his back toward her, “I am sorry that it’s come to this; the sorrow I feel is immense and sincere but I’ve no choice. The martial law and the signal transmitter are made up. I lied in order to bring you here alone.” 

Thexia felt a tug in her gut and a lump in her throat. Her heart beat quietly in her ears, but just audible enough to notice. Her gaze then fell, darting around as she tried to make sense of the situation on the fly, “I don’t understand, Quinn. Is this your way of telling me that you no longer have interest in me?” 

Soon after Quinn had joined her crew on Balmorra, Thexia found herself undeniably falling for the captain. Much quicker than she could have anticipated, even. Flirtatious teasing turned into a desire of something more than pure lust; she cared deeply for him. She wanted his well-being, his happiness and satisfaction. And, up until now, she was convinced he felt the same. 

“That is not the case- that is, I mean to say, not the reason I brought you here.” The man turned to face her, his brows furrowed, “I serve Darth Baras. I owe him more than you can imagine and I strongly believe he knows what is best for the Empire.” 

The mention of her former master was enough to get her blood boiling. She’d distrusted the lying, scheming Darth ever since she met him on Korriban. _His_ betrayal came as no surprise; it was part of Sith culture to eliminate threats as one saw fit. It didn’t matter if said threat was a meddling apprentice. Long had she tolerated running his errands, cleaning up after his mess, going out of her way to get him the power he wanted. She hated every moment of it. She lived for the day where she could finally surpass him and slay him. 

“Baras is a delusional fool who goes against the will of the Emperor. You’re content with siding with a traitor?” 

“The Emperor has been quiet for too long. The Empire needs someone like Baras in order to win this war.” 

Thexia shook her head in disbelief. She was frustrated, angered yet saddened. Had he been acting as her former master’s spy since he joined her crew? That would explain some of the run-ins and inconveniences she had while working with the Hand. But what of his feelings? Even now, she sensed sorrow within him; he didn’t want to do this. She approached further and Quinn retrieved a remote-control he had hidden away. She could have used the force to stop him from pressing anything, but instead she caught his wrist with her hand. Quinn swallowed dryly, “Please, my lord- I have to do this.” 

The thought of using Force-persuasion on him briefly crossed her mind but she was quick to push it away. The trick worked on the weak-minded; and although she deemed his current choices foolish at best, she understood how intelligent this man was. He was smarter than most gave him credit for. “I cannot allow that,” Thexia replied, dropping her volume to just above a whisper. 

And as she forced herself to meet his gaze, Quinn found he couldn’t look away. The woman’s scarlet and orange eyes were nearly captivating; he found himself in a trance of sorts, even without the use of any Force tricks. His lips lightly parted, pulse beating rapidly against his neck, the captain finally moved to make an attempt to activate the controller. 

But Thexia swiftly caught his attention once more by leaning up and planting a firm kiss to his lips. He froze, breathing hard through his nostrils. She caressed his jawline – gently, but strong enough to hold him in place. 

Then Quinn felt the remote-controller fly out of his grasp. Not a moment after, his eyes flew open as he felt an immense pressure around his throat. Thexia broke their kiss none-too-gently, taking a step back as the man fell to his knees, clutching at his throat for air. The Sith watched him struggle, knowing that bloodlust began to course through her veins. The rage she felt was of immense power; betrayed by not one person, but _two_ – that was enough to get any Sith riled up. As she held her hand steady in a Force-choke position, she knew all it would take was a simple twist of her hand to kill him. She wouldn’t have to deal with the thought of him breaking her heart again. 

She’d forget about him; he’d be another name on the list of those who plotted her downfall. 

It was a pitiful sight, to say the least. His face had practically gone blue, he struggled to breathe without a hope of freeing himself. Her title even spilled from his lips in a strained whisper. Thexia hadn’t ignored her rage; it built and festered inside her as their conversation played out. To think she worked up the confidence to pursue him, and to think he tolerated it and lead her on for so long. Yet his feelings were genuine – all of them. They fumbled over and conflicted with each other. Baras, the vile _snake,_ knew just what it would take to break her. Thexia’s eyes narrowed as she increased the pressure around Quinn’s neck. Baras wouldn’t be able to find a hell that was far enough away to hide from her- 

No. 

Quinn wasn’t deserving of her cruelty.

Thexia relaxed her grip, releasing him as he fell onto the ground, barely catching himself. He coughed and gasped for air, hand shaking as he felt his neck. Quinn had almost blacked out – or perhaps he nearly died, he couldn’t tell – but his vision slowly returned as he breathed. He hesitantly looked up to his lord – to the Wrath who spared his life. Her lips had the slightest of a quiver to them, but the strain on her face held back any tears that threatened to spill. “Rethink your allegiance,” she hissed, “know that Baras would have killed you if you betrayed _him._ ” 

To follow in her former master’s footsteps would be to make the same mistakes he did. Thexia tired of being referred to as his apprentice; the association never flattered her and was, instead, a mere reminder of her hatred toward him. She wouldn’t follow his teachings; she wouldn’t hold his ideals. She held her own set of morals and a code of honor that she went by. 

“You were more than a captain to me, Quinn. I cared so much for you. I loved you.” 

There was a hitch in his breath. He was, frankly, speechless. He thought perhaps his lord desired him for merely sexual purposes; to be used as some plaything to relieve pent up frustration. In truth, he’d been at war with himself; his logical mind reminded him of the consequences whereas his heart yearned for something more. Above all, he knew being romantically involved with a Sith would put his life even further at risk. He was uncertain if he was ready to throw everything away for a relationship. 

“For whatever it means to you, my lord,” Quinn panted, his voice hoarse, and he pushed himself to stand, “I found myself catching feelings for you even when I knew I shouldn’t.” 

“Then I wish things could have gone much differently.” 

“As do I. Very much.” 

Thexia’s rage was not yet quelled; how eagerly she wanted to lash out at something, to scream at someone. She’d erupt like a volcano to then return passive, building up more energy for when the time was appropriate. Catching her attention, the remote-control Quinn was holding beeped, a red light flickering at the top. She reached out and created a fist with her hand, the metal of the machine scrunching and breaking. Quinn shook his head, “I’m- I’m sorry, my lord. That’s not going to do much.” 

“Is the vessel about to self-destruct?” 

“No- I had droids lying in wait,” he paused, “to kill you.” Before Thexia could snap at him, he continued, “They were programmed to activate at a certain time if not manually switched on. That time is now.” 

“Deactivate them, then.” 

“All due respect, my lord, but the controller in which I could have done so is now a pile of scrap.” 

Thexia clicked her tongue in annoyance. Of course. She drew her lightsabers from her hips and ignited them, looking around the room until the door at the opposite end opened. Two battle droids rolled out into the room, aiming and immediately opening fire upon the Sith. A part of her was relieved she’d get to destroy something after all. She deflected the shots and sent some flying back toward its sender. Taking off in a charge, a fierce snarl curling her lips, Thexia leapt and sliced one of the droids in two. She reached out to the other droid and yanked it closer with the Force, using her saber to swipe at its metal body. 

That wasn’t enough. 

The woman sheathed her blades and put them back at her sides. She curled her fingers and raised her arms, levitating the pieces of the droids, then closing her fists. Sounds of metal creaking and scraping echoed throughout the room – quite an unpleasant noise, but she didn’t care. Thexia dragged her arms out to the side in a swift movement, coupled with a vicious scream, and the pieces came crashing into the wall, sparks flying upon collision. 

But she didn’t stop there. She heaved the pile away from the wall and slammed it against it again. Twice, three times. In the darkest parts of her mind, she wanted to throw it at Quinn. Instead, the pile flew upward and slammed against the ceiling before she threw it onto the ground. 

She turned on her heel, her chest lightly heaving from her panting, and saw Quinn. He was standing straight, blaster in-hand, “I expected you to not need my assistance but-” 

“Spare me,” Thexia began to stomp out of the room but paused. She looked at the pile of metal, getting a small idea. She reached out with the Force and dragged half of a droid over toward her. 

Quinn blinked, “My lord-?” 

“I’m saving it for later,” she interrupted. She planned to bring it along with her when she fought Baras, so that she could fling it into his face. Perhaps, using the materials, she’d craft a new mask for him? One that he’d wear in his grave so that he would have a constant reminder of his failure, even in death. Yes – the idea sat well with her. She paused again mid-step, looking back at Quinn who was still in the room. 

“Come, Captain. You still have a position on my ship, but things... things will be different now.” 

He perked upon hearing that. “I- thank you, my lord. I don’t deserve your mercy in the slightest. I am beyond grateful that you’d allow me a second chance; you shall have my undying loyalty,” he walked beside her as he spoke, keeping his helmet off for the time being. 

“Continue serving as my captain. Continue everything as you normally would. We’re going to keep what happened here between the two of us. If you’re going to earn my trust once more, you’ll need to do something for me.” 

“Anything, my lord,” he replied before he even knew the words left his mouth. 

“You’re coming with me to kill Baras. Directly, in the flesh.” 

“Of course, my lord,” Quinn said with a small nod of his head. The thought did not sit well with him, but he completely understood. It certainly wasn’t the worst thing she could have picked; in fact, he was grateful that it wasn’t something that threatened his dignity. But his lord seemed pleased; a faint smirk curled her lips before she put her mask back on. 

They made their way back to her starship, where she would keep distant from him for several days. They spoke only of reports, updates and information on their mission. It was best to keep things professional for a little while, anyway. 

* * *

"M’lord," a low, gruff voice caught Thexia’s attention. Her eyes opened slowly from her meditative state and she saw Major Pierce standing before her. Since the group initially found the ancient vessel, the _Gravestone_ , they’d been working near constantly to get it cleaned out and working. The wildlife had overrun it; animals, both peaceful and hostile, had to be shooed out or exterminated; vines, roots and moss were cleared from the rooms. It was nearing day five since they took refuge within the Zakuulian forest. And, fortunately, they’d done an excellent job at lying low; they went nearly unbothered as they worked. 

“What is it, Major?” The Sith inquired, shifting to swing her legs over the side of her bed. 

“Miss Beniko. She’s requested your assistance outside.” 

“I’ll be there shortly,” Thexia said, standing as Pierce gave her a nod and left her quarters. The woman retrieved her hair tie and pulled her hair back into a taught ponytail. It came as no surprise to her that she’d think of her husband during her meditation; but what did concern her was the vivid flashback of the incident at the transponder vessel. She’d not thought back to that moment in years – even the ones she was conscious for. After he’d undergone his punishment, the incident was water under the bridge. Quinn proved his loyalty by being there with her, by her side, as she killed Darth Baras. And after, he would only continue to devote himself to her cause. 

It took months to stabilize their relationship, but after some time, Quinn asked for her hand in marriage. They were wed within a quarter of a standard year. 

Though as she recalled the flashback, uneasiness churned in her gut. Something about the incident always felt out of place. She understood his loyalty, but the means by which he meant to kill her were his worst mistake in all of it. Thexia huffed in amusement as her thoughts raced. _Droids?_ Programmed to operate at pique proficiency or not, he’d seen her tear apart droids five times the size with triple the power. He was a clever man, one who’s mind shouldn’t be underestimated. He was smarter than that-. 

She paused, half-way through fastening a bracer around her wrist. 

He _was_ smarter than that. She knew he was. Even she could think up more subtle ways to commit a murder. Sith lords weren’t immune to every type of poison. Quinn knew her starship’s ins and outs, he could have sabotaged something from the inside to blow it up. The transponder vessel itself was also likely to have traps; he could have used those. 

The room in which he led her into felt over-dramatic. She recalled his words, how they felt scripted. His outward demeanor even felt unnatural. Forced. If his goal was to kill her for Baras, why go to the effort of creating such a performance? Why not simply do as requested? Did Baras ask specifically for Quinn to use droids? Perhaps his intention was to get the captain killed instead? Every attempt on her life that her former master threw at her was a failure; why did he think this outcome would be different? 

Thexia couldn’t ignore the ache in her heart. She wanted to delve further into this conspiracy she was getting herself into, but she couldn’t. Not now. Taking a deep breath and exhaling a sigh, she turned to head out of her chambers and outside the ship. 

* * *

“Glad you could join us,” Lana greeted the Wrath. She, Altrethir and Ashara all waited outside for her to arrive. Thexia looked around curiously, frowning lightly. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Nothing - well, we’re not in any danger right now, if that’s what you mean. The captain’s got the engines running, all signs are a go. All the _Gravestone_ needs is a lift.” 

“That is to say that we are the lift it needs?” 

“Precisely.” 

Thexia gave a half-hearted shrug and took her place by her fellow Sith. Lana raised her arms, the others following her lead. No words were needed; all four maintained excellent focus with their abilities. They could feel one another through the Force, then they felt and heard the _Gravestone_ rising from the ground below. Not a single one of them could lift a ship of massive size by themself; Thexia in particular was impressed with how well this was going. 

The _Gravestone_ was fully suspended in the air moments later. Lana’s comm beeped. She clicked it on, “Yes, Captain?” 

“We’re golden! I’ll take it from here, you guys get on board.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	12. Asylum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gravestone is in need of immediate repair. Knowing of a safe location to take the vessel, the crew heads to the shadowport of Asylum. Captain Remi'vu heads off to find and speak with his old crew, and Lana takes Altrethir and Thexia to meet with a contact of hers. The Sith find that they got more than what they asked for when Lana's contact brings them to meet new potential allies.

It wasn’t as though Thexia knew what to expect with Asylum, but she couldn’t say she was pleased when they arrived. It reminded her of the sketchiest streets of Dromund Kaas; gangs, thugs and bounty hunters sprawled across the docking bay, filling her with a sense of disgust. The _Gravestone_ caught quite the bit of attention as it pulled in; more and more individuals poured into the bay to see the massive vessel for themselves. Remi’vu tapped a few buttons then pulled a lever, “Okay! I’ve got some people to meet, so can I leave a couple of you in charge?” 

“I’ve a contact to meet as well,” said Lana, “but Major Pierce and Ashara may stay to make sure everything runs smoothly.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Pierce replied. 

Lana beckoned Thexia and Altrethir to follow. Trailing behind the captain, the four exited the ship. Remi’vu went his own separate way while Lana brought the two Sith around and down an alley. Altrethir adjusted his lekku, draping them around his neck like a scarf before pulling up the hood of his cloak. He was uncertain if anyone would recognize him as one of the outsiders who killed Emperor Valkorion, but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

Lana brought the two into a secluded area; they were still in view of the public, but far away enough to where they could converse privately. “People from across the galaxy want to rise up against Emperor Arcann,” she began, keeping her voice relatively low. “I’ve begun arrangements and through many contacts, I’m organizing an alliance to bring everyone together. This could be something that changes the fate of the galaxy for the better, but I will need your help to make it a reality.” 

“How may we lend our aid?” Altrethir asked. 

“Work with me for the time being. We’ll plan direct plots against Arcann once we’ve established a base of operations. For now, there is someone I’d like you to meet. And I ask you both to keep an open mind.” 

Thexia and Altrethir exchanged glances of uncertainty. Then, their attention was drawn to a figure clad in white and gold. It was a female human and she approached slowly. Immediately, the Sith’s senses detected that the woman was a user of the Force. Lana moved in front of them, greeting the woman with a nod, “Senya.” 

“Lana Beniko,” the new woman replied, “This meeting isn’t one I take lightly.” 

“Nor should you, given the circumstances.” 

“A Jedi?” Thexia inquired, a small sneer curling her lips. 

“No; a former Knight of Zakuul,” Senya replied lowly, shame resounding within her tone. “And someone who can help you stop Arcann.” 

“We share a mutual goal. I’ve been in contact with her for a while – she is trustworthy,” Lana explained. 

Thexia narrowed her eyes toward Senya, not entirely convinced, “How do we know she won’t betray us?” 

“Where Valkorion ruled with greatness, Arcann tears everything apart. He rules without order, without experience. He’s a child who plays with fire.” 

Even as Senya spoke, Altrethir detected an ulterior motive. No – her tone didn’t display any hints of dishonesty, but he knew she was keeping something from them. Nevertheless, they were in need of allies, especially ones who knew about their enemy. As a former Knight of Zakuul, certainly she’d be just the help they needed. The Twi’lek spoke up, “Senya’s intel on Arcann and Zakuul could be invaluable to us.” 

“Exactly my thinking,” Lana replied, “She has already proven her trust to me. I’ve no doubts she will do the same for you in due time.” 

Thexia remained skeptical. But, seeing how she was outnumbered, she tossed her hands in the air in defeat, “Fine. I’ve only so much trust I can throw around. Do not make us regret this.” 

“You won’t,” Senya replied, “that’s a promise.” 

* * *

Captain Remi’vu pushed his way through a small crowd of people, mindful of his belongings in his pockets. Asylum was no Nar Shaddaa, but it still paid off to be careful. He weaved through the mass until he stood before a local cantina. He checked the sign, arched a brow, and nodded. That’s the one. 

Although the cantina had a stage, there were no ongoing live performances; the music that resounded in the building played from a jukebox near the entrance. In all honesty, he was pleasantly surprised to find that this particular place had a certain quality feel to it. That was to say, it wasn’t trashy. The walls and floors were pristine, the furniture clean and spotless. Maybe it was just a newly-opened cantina, he couldn’t say. 

The Mirialan peeked around the tables until he spotted just who he was looking for. He approached the table of a cybernetically-enhanced human woman; thick scars encircled her eyes, her irises completely glossed over white. Cybernetic implants pressed into the flesh of her brows, stopping just before her tear ducts. Her raven hair looked as though it’d been cut with a crude razor; it was hardly styled and looked as though she just swept it to the side with her fingers. Despite her intimidating appearance, Remi’vu extended his arms out by his sides and greeted her with a charming smile, “Fai, it is _good_ to see ya.” 

“Remi'vu,” she greeted lowly.

The captain took a seat adjacent to her, “Where’s the rest of the crew?” 

Fai jerked a thumb toward the direction of the bar. Remi’vu turned and looked, seeing more cybernetically-enhanced individuals enjoying themselves over drinks. “Suppose that answers that.” 

“That’s most of them. The others had some shopping they needed to get done.” 

“Eh, I guess I can let them enjoy that, then. Things seem like they’re about to get weird and wild soon.” 

She gave him a questioning look, “Why do you say that?” 

“Oh, nothing really. Just busted out a couple of missing Sith Lords from carbonite. They were, uh, prisoners of Zakuul.” 

Fai sipped her drink. 

“One of ‘em was the one who killed Valkorion.” 

Fai’s brows raised and she paused mid-sip. “Well- that, uh. I see where you’re coming from now. What the hell made you take on this kind of job?” 

Remi’vu kept his voice low, making sure their conversation was just between them; “Let’s be frank: business has tanked since Arcann hauled his ass onto the Eternal Throne. Shit’s been harder for everyone, I don’t gotta tell you that, you know how it is. Everything I’ve been doin’ has been part of a bigger scheme – a scheme where we boot Arcann off the throne.” 

“Just so Vaylin can take his place? Or is killing her part of the plan, too?” 

“Think so. Haven’t talked about her all that much, honestly. Assuming those are details I’m just left out on for now.” 

Fai shifted in her seat, thumbing her chin thoughtfully, “You aren’t generally concerned for the well-being of other smugglers. Yes, this has affected everyone, but I know you’re one to look out for you and only you.” 

Remi’vu loosely folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat, “The Eternal Empire took somethin’ from me. Somethin’ I'll never have again. So, yeah. Maybe this is my way of getting back at ‘em.” 

“Well, Captain, we’re still following you. Can’t speak for everyone in the crew, but you know I’ll have your back.” 

“I’ve got a feeling this’ll be a gig they can get behind,” Remi’vu smirked, “The pay will be great, they’ll get to see a childish emperor get his toys taken away. Too good of an opportunity to pass up.” 

* * *

“There is a place I must take you; one where we can find potential allies,” Senya told the Sith as they walked through the streets of Asylum. Though she pledged her loyalty, Thexia in particular wasn’t ready to trust this woman. 

“What sort of allies?” Altrethir asked before the Wrath could ask the same question. 

“Allies whose knowledge about Arcann could be irreplaceable.” 

Lana took the opportunity to contact Captain Remi’vu to get a time estimate. Informing her that he’d be a little while still, the Sith opted to see what Senya had in mind. They ducked down a narrow alleyway and through another. Altrethir noted the lack in people around; the disappearance of traffic altogether was only slightly concerning. Senya glanced left to right, making sure she wasn’t seen before approaching the wall of a building. Her fingers deftly tapped buttons of which he couldn’t see and with a hiss, a hidden door slid open. 

“This is not unsettling at all,” Thexia muttered, a scowl ever present upon her lips. 

“You may choose to stay outside; but if you want the help of my allies, you’ll come with me.” 

Thexia and Lana exchanged a glance before giving in and entering. 

The door shut behind them once all four had entered. The room was dimly lit and elegantly decorated; a plush purple rug graced the tiles of the floor, complimented by an array of potted plants surrounding the border of the room. “Tell me who these friends of yours are, now.” Thexia demanded, growing more uneasy by the moment. Before Senya could reply, a voice echoed throughout the chamber; 

“You seek our aid, yet we both know little of one another. I am Heskal, and we are the Scions: a faction of Zakuul of whom Arcann turned against when he stole the Eternal Throne. We hear, we see, we feel destiny through the Force, and yet the whispers have fallen silent when it comes to you.” 

“I carve my fate with my own hands; prophecies are nothing more than superstitious guessing,” Thexia snapped, instinctively drawing her lightsabers from her hips. 

But this, however, struck Altrethir as familiar; in a sense, what the voice said reminded him of the mystics from Voss. The mystic’s visions were never wrong and they viewed them through the Force. The practice could be similar here, too. While he wasn’t a firm believer in destiny, he understood that this sort of power through the Force was very much real. He stepped in, before Thexia said anything to set off the Scions; “The threads within the tapestry of fate can be altered just as the artist sees fit.” 

“Who are you, so wise in the dealings of fate?” 

“Lord Valran, formerly Darth Nox of the Dark Council. I’ve respect for your practices, but I much prefer conversations face-to-face. Or, over tea, if that is more to your liking.” 

Thexia side-eyed her fellow Sith, her scowl still curling her lips. 

“Soon. We shall be revealed soon. We’ve fallen deaf to the whispers; we know nothing of you. It is through a physical test of strength that we may determine your role in the downfall of Arcann. Lord Valran and his duel-wielding companion, step forth.” 

Altrethir and Thexia moved forward, standing side-by-side in the center of the room. Senya and Lana remained patiently off to the sidelines, but there was a hint of concern upon Lana’s expression. She wasn’t sure what to expect, frankly. Two lightsaber-wielding humans appeared from nearby pillars; their blades glowed pink and they were both clad in robes of black and gold. 

“Remain vigilant throughout the trials. Claim your weapons, defend yourselves.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	13. The Scions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altrethir and Thexia are put through the trials of the Scions as a means to gain their allegiance. Meanwhile, Captain Remi'vu and Fai notice trouble heading their way.

Trial after trial continued. Lana and Senya were made to watch as Thexia and Altrethir were tested before the Scions. This was the first time Lana had seen the two Sith fight together; their synergy was nearly flawless, despite the lack of verbal communication. She observed their tactics with a furrowed brow, wondering if perhaps Valkorion was tampering with their abilities. A Scion held Thexia’s attention and Altrethir raised a hand to send a current of electricity into him. A new Scion rushed up behind the sorcerer; in a fluid movement, Altrethir ducked as Thexia leapt over him and struck down the flanker. 

When the fighting ceased, a holo image of Arcann appeared toward the back of the room. He stood passively, his lightsaber ignited and by his side, and Thexia felt growing rage within her. Heskal’s voice resounded through the chambers, “Arcann is destined to fail; we have foreseen it time and time again, yet his final fate is uncertain. What will you do when he is at your mercy?” 

“Nothing will stay my hand. He’s taken too much from me – from everyone – to be spared,” Thexia replied without hesitation. 

“His crimes against the galaxy are too great and he poses too large a threat to be kept alive. Death is the only way to stop his madness,” said Altrethir in a more collected tone. 

“Death is not the only option,” Senya called out from the sidelines. Both the Sith turned to her, and Thexia’s glare was so sharp it could cut durasteel. The older woman continued, “Arcann will not escape justice, but we must make sure we remain on a clear path: we seek justice, not revenge.” 

“Mind your tongue otherwise I will tear it out,” the Wrath snarled, “Justice _is_ vengeance in this situation.” 

“You interfere with the trials, Senya Tirall. You may not speak nor interject while the trials are in place,” Heskal called out. “Lord Valran, Thexia Matua, there is one final test you must complete. It is through fighting me that I may confirm your words to hold true.” From an overlook above, an older human man with pale eyes dropped before the two. He stuck his landing and drew his lightsaber; the color was crimson, just like that of the Sith’s. Two additional Scions joined either side of him, but these wore masked helmets. 

Thexia took off in a charge toward Heskal, lashing out with fury just as she normally would. Altrethir lurched to the side as a Scion leapt toward him, knocking them back with a Force push. The other Scion almost caught him off guard by flanking him, but the sorcerer held up his saber to block the pink blade that would have cleaved him in two. He exhaled a short breath. Channeling lightning required too much focus; with two opponents on him, spells were little an option. Thinking quick, Altrethir parried the Scion’s blade and thrust his free arm out to apply a paralyzing jolt to them. The Sith proceeded to use his stunned foe as a barrier, keeping them between him and the other Scion that rushed back into the fight. He was able to maneuver and block just enough before disarming his opponent with a clean swirl of his blade. 

The Wrath unleashed a flurry of duel-wielded attacks upon Heskal. It came as a surprise to her that he managed to keep up; certainly, he’d never faced an adversary like her before. A small grin found its way upon her features as she found herself enjoying the combat. Their blades clashed with a bright flash and Thexia pushed down upon him, causing him to stumble back just a step. It was as she stared to him that she felt an abrupt shift in his emotions. Heskal suddenly repelled her blades and sent her flying into a pillar with a Force shove. The Sith fell to the ground but still kept a tight grasp on her sabers, wasting no time in charging back to finish the fight. But Heskal waited for the opportune moment to dodge her attack, Thexia’s momentum carrying her straight toward a pillar. She clenched her jaw and knew she couldn’t halt herself in time. So, instead, she opted to use the environment to her advantage. She leapt, her boot upon the column pivoted and thrust herself back toward her opponent, her blades finding his once more. 

Altrethir had bested the two Scions who fought him and he could now join in on Thexia’s fight. He gathered his focus, letting his own anger course through his being. Sparks flickered upon his fingertips and then the sorcerer shoved his arms forward, unleashing bright veins of purple lightning into Heskal. The head Scion keeled over and dropped his blade but was still conscious after Altrethir stopped channeling his spell. 

“Enough,” the human panted, standing with a discomforted grunt, “Our battle has enlightened me to the truth; we know why the whispers have fallen silent regarding your fate. Through your powers, Lord Valran, and within the fire of your eyes, Thexia, all has been made clear: our Immortal Emperor lives inside your minds.” 

Senya’s eyes widened as her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Lana’s gaze fell to the floor below and she placed her hands upon her hips. Well, she thought, it couldn’t have remained a secret forever. 

“And what of it?” The Wrath asked, “He has been nothing but silent.” 

“But you feel his presence,” Heskal continued, “You do not deny it.” 

“Valkorion has been less shy with me,” Altrethir said, “He has spoken to me, though brief, since I was awakened from carbonite.” 

“What’s he said to you that he fears to tell me?” Thexia asked, shooting a glare toward the Twi’lek. 

“Nonsensical ramblings; you are fortunate to be spared from them.” Altrethir turned his attention to Heskal, “We have passed your trials, have we not? You’ve learned our intentions, and we’ve learned of your powers. I speak for myself, but I would be grateful for your aid.” 

“The Scions were once loyal to Zakuul; how will we know they won’t turn traitor on us?” 

“They want exactly what we want: Arcann off the throne, and someone sensible on it instead.” 

“I suppose you think you’re cut out for the position?” 

Altrethir hesitated. In a glimpse of a thought, his mind took him back to the dream in which Valkorion appeared. The Emperor had attempted persuading him into leading, one way or another, and nearly convinced him. In some outcomes, Altrethir did see himself upon the Eternal Throne, leading an Empire of freedom and justice. But Thexia took his hesitation as a yes and huffed, “What’ve the Scions predicted?” She asked in a sarcastic tone. 

“That is a matter we’ve yet to foresee; it is Valkorion’s presence that clouds our vision.” 

“Of course it does,” the Wrath muttered. “Join our cause or don’t, but know that you will be cut down if we learn that you plot against us.” Thexia turned on her heel, Altrethir tentatively following behind. Lana joined them but Senya paused. 

“There is a reason I brought you here, made you go through the trials: so that _I_ may understand those who seek the downfall of Arcann and Vaylin – my son and my daughter.” 

Altrethir’s brows raised. There it was; there was her ulterior motive. And he recalled her earlier interruption, how she interfered with the trial to express her opinion on the matter. She wanted to stop Arcann and Vaylin, not kill them. A hint of an amused grin twitched at the corners of his lips. To think the woman would trust her son and daughter’s fate to two vengeful Sith was amusing to him. And the other of the two vengeful Sith marched forward and jammed a finger into Senya’s chest plate; “You could have simply asked for our motives, rather than force us to go through this superstitious nonsense!” 

“It was the only way to be absolutely certain,” Senya replied calmly, “And if you didn’t, we wouldn’t have gained them as allies.” 

“I understand your reasonings, but from hence forth, no more secrets. Trust is sparse right now, but we cannot overthrow Arcann if we cannot find it within ourselves to work with one another,” Altrethir interjected before the situation escalated. 

“He’s right,” Lana said, “about everything. If we are to prove our loyalty to one another, we cannot keep things hidden from each other any longer.” 

Thexia didn’t tear her gaze from the older woman. It’d take her more than a mere minute to cool down – especially since she just came out of combat. But she forced herself to pull her arm back at her side, brushing past the others to briskly walk out of the room. Altrethir heaved a short sigh; he’d hoped she’d see reason. 

* * *

“I was handlin’ myself just fine, but then a Sith joined the brawl! Choked the hell outta the guy and snapped his neck. Like I said, handled myself just fine, but _that_ was-” 

“Remi, wait,” Fai snatched Remi’vu’s shoulder before he could turn the corner of the alleyway. He sputtered in protest but the woman clapped a hand over his mouth to quiet him, jerking her thumb in the down the street. He narrowed his eyes but peered down the alley, gasping as he saw two Knights of Zakuul conversing with a sketchy-looking individual. 

“The hell are those golden garbage cans doin’ here?” 

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. We need to find your Sith friends and leave.” 

“Yeah, no kiddin’,” Remi’vu backtracked the way they came. They navigated the backroads to take them back to their docking station, wary of Arcann’s forces. Asylum was full of shady characters; it wouldn’t surprise him if the Emperor had spies among the crowds. But what was so important that they had to bring the Knights of Zakuul here? Was Arcann aware that the _Gravestone_ had been discovered and was he after it himself? 

Remi’vu clicked on his comm, “Lana? You there?” 

“I copy, Captain.” 

“So, we may have a bit of a problem.” 

“Is it an emergency?” 

“Kind of? Sort of? We need to meet up. Preferably soon.” 

There was a brief pause before Lana replied; “Very well. We’ll meet you back at the ship.” 

Remi’vu shut off his comm, looking to Fai, “C’mon. Better get a move on.” 

* * *

Half the day had flown by since everyone was back at the ship together. Remi’vu waited with Fai and the rest of his crew, keeping a lookout for the Sith. He quirked a brow when he saw his companions arriving with not one, but two additional individuals with them. “Picked up some extra baggage along the way, eh? Something I should ask about or just keep my mouth shut about?” 

“Some people who can help us stop Arcann,” Lana replied, “This is Senya, and the droid is SCORPIO.” 

“The _Gravestone_ ,” SCORPIO murmured; she possessed a woman’s voice that was filtered electronically. “The vessel is in poor care. It cries out to be improved upon.” 

Something about this droid gave Remi’vu the chills. Frankly, he’d never seen anything like it. The design and model were unique and vastly different from anything he’d seen before. “Yeah? Well, we _did_ just pick her up off the floor of the forest. Been abandoned for centuries. So, sorry if she's not exactly clean and pristine.” 

“How have repairs come along?” Lana asked. 

“Eh, slow but steady. Should be good to go soon. The crew’s been working on the major stuff first so that we can get out of here faster. Minor things can be fixed once we’re up and out of here.” 

“Good. SCORPIO claims to have information regarding the _Gravestone_ that you may want to listen to, Captain. You know your history on the ship, as does she.” 

Remi’vu gave her a questioning look, “Yeah, I’ll... take that under advisement.” 

A beep sounded from Altrethir’s holo comm. He clicked it on and a projection of Heskal appeared. “Lord Valran. You and Thexia Matua’s presences are requested. Come alone.” The call was cut. 

“Perhaps he’s called to take you up on your offer for tea?” Thexia suggested in some attempt at humor. 

“One way to find out, I suppose,” Altrethir gave a nod to Lana and set off back into the streets with the Wrath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	14. Assault of Asylum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thexia and Altrethir are called back to the Scion's hideout; they run into an unexpected visitor.

One hour. If Thexia and Altrethir had not returned in one hour, Lana insisted she’d search for them. Fifteen minutes had passed, and fifteen minutes was all it took for them to reach their destination. Altrethir input the passcode Senya had used during their first visit to the Scion’s hideout, then the hidden door opened once more. The two Sith entered and made their way further into the chambers – and all was silent. _Too_ silent. 

They entered the room in which they fought Heskal, and the man himself stood in the middle of the room; his lightsaber was drawn and ignited, bodies of slain Scions lied at his feet. Altrethir got a terrible feeling in his gut but Thexia stepped closer, “Going back on our deal? You were to ally with us, not kill your own people.” 

Altrethir felt a fleeting chill run down his spine. “Thexia, wait-.” 

Heskal dropped his saber, the weapon’s light vanished as the hilt fell to the floor with a clang. His body was stiff, rigid, and his face contorted in restrain. A sharp electric snap echoed through the chambers, and a yellow lightsaber pierced Heskal through his chest. He was then tossed aside by means of a Force-throw – and Emperor Arcann now stood where the elder Scion did. 

“The Outlanders,” the masked man spoke, “After all these years, did you think we’d meet again like this?” 

“Frankly,” Thexia reached at for her sabers at her sides, “I was hoping for a more glamourous setting. Killing you here would feel anti-climactic.” 

Altrethir moved swiftly but not suddenly, taking no risks with sudden movements to set off the Emperor. He knelt beside Heskal, checking the other man. He was clinging on but barely; he’d die within minutes. There wasn’t anything Altrethir could do for him. 

“Don’t waste your time with him,” Arcann called, “Would you still accept his help if I told you he was the one who brought me here?” 

Thexia’s eyes widened, “The _worm_. I knew he’d pull a stunt like that.” 

“Why-? No, you’re lying,” Altrethir replied as he stood. 

“He believed that destiny called him to betray you. The Scions are blinded by their own beliefs. I am beyond any prophecy they could imagine. They are useless, and that is why I kill them,” Arcann’s single visible eye watched the Twi’lek. Thexia, however, didn’t tear her gaze from him; she watched her foe like a nexu before the strike. 

“Accurate prophecies are an ability the Force may grant a user – this concept is not unheard of,” Altrethir said. 

“Perhaps from where you hail, but it matters not. Heskal told me that my father resides in your minds. Not just one, but both of you.” Arcann sheathed his weapon, “Surrender. Your companions will be allowed to leave – without the _Gravestone_ – and the two of you will be returned to carbonite. That is, until I find a way to rid you of my father.” 

A haughty but brief laugh escaped Thexia’s lips, “Is he joking? I want nothing more than to spill your blood, _Arcann_. You fear to face us in combat. You don’t believe you can take on both of us, so you cower.” 

Altrethir rose to his feet, silently glaring toward the Emperor. And Arcann heaved a short sigh, drawing his lightsaber once more, “The only blood that will be spilled will be that of your friends’.” 

Thexia didn’t miss a beat. She dashed in and began lashing out with ferocity, vicious grunts sounding from her as their blades clashed. She fought with her hatred for the man – the man who took five years from her life. The man who played her like a fool upon his father’s flagship. The man who separated her from Malavai. 

She landed a strike upon Arcann that caused him to fumble. And as she raised her blades, she felt an odd sensation within her mind. She was frozen, halted mid-strike, as if she herself had paused her actions. Confused, the woman lowered her arms, instinctively taking a step away from her opponent. Arcann, too, was frozen in time, as was Altrethir. 

“You will not be able to defeat my son,” a low, gravelly voice echoed around her. _Valkorion_ _._

“Finally, you show yourself to me. Do you tire of your sorcerer pet?” 

“Not at all. You both are of equal importance to me,” he spoke, fading into appearance before her. 

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m in the middle of something.” 

“I’ve noticed. I wish to offer you the aid of my power once more. You refused when you were in your frozen prison, but in more dire circumstances, you will certainly need it.” 

“I’m at no disadvantage. If anything, I’m winning.” 

“Thus far. And how low you will sink when your pride has been crushed.” 

“ _Leave,_ Valkorion. I’ve no need for you.” 

The man smirked, “As you wish, my Wrath. You will come to want my power; that is a promise.” 

Time resumed as normal. Thexia was in the position she left off in and brought her blades down upon Arcann. In a second, he performed a feint and took the advantage in their fight. He landed a kick to her jaw then threw her into the adjacent wall with a Force push. Then he turned his attention to Altrethir, “I’m starting to feel as though Heskal was wrong; if my father lingered in your minds, I would have had a challenge by now.” 

Altrethir exhaled slowly, taking the opportunity to study his foe. Arcann was skilled, there was no doubt about that; he wielded his blade expertly and maintained great strength in the Force. And from his observations regarding Arcann’s fighting-style, Altrethir couldn’t say he recognized many techniques from Jedi nor Sith teachings. If anything, the patterns beared a vague resemblance to them. But as far as his opponent’s skill went, just how far could he push his limits? Slowly the sorcerer paced, wearing a thoughtful expression upon his features, then the masked man called out. 

“Will you fight, Outlander, or will you do nothing more than stand there?” 

“I allow you the honor of the first strike,” Altrethir replied. And the Sith could see the sneer upon the other man’s face by the narrow of his eye. Arcann leapt toward him, and Altrethir drew upon the Force to give him unnatural speed. The Sith avoided the attack and thrusted both his arms forward to send the Emperor flying into a nearby pillar. Arcann growled but managed to recover quickly. 

As he charged back toward Altrethir, he caught a glimpse of a crimson blade flying toward him out of the corner of his eye. He quickly drew his own saber up to block the attack, and Thexia caught her own weapon as it circled back to her. She leapt onto him and unleashed a flurry of sharp attacks. She parried, ducked and feinted his offensive moves, managing to nail a kick to his stomach to knock him back a bit. 

Yet as it appeared the Sith had the upper hand in the battle, a furious tremble unleashed throughout the room. All three of them lost their balance and stumbled. From above, debris started to come crashing down. Thexia lurched out of the way before a large slab of concrete came crashing down on her, separating her and Arcann. Then Altrethir took her shoulder, “It’s not safe to stay here!” 

“I won’t leave until I know he’s dead!” 

“If we stay, we’ll be crushed and you won’t be alive to revel in your success. Live to fight another day!” 

Thexia huffed, sneering. Dammit, he had a point. “You make a convincing argument. Fine.” 

* * *

The Sith ran outside. To their horror, the Eternal Fleet already had the _Gravestone_ surrounded. Smaller ships whizzed by firing upon one another; a full-on battle had begun. No doubt some of those blasts, or Force forbid a _missile_ , struck the Scion’s hideout, and that was what caused such a massive quake. Altrethir and Thexia wove through the crowd of fleeing citizens to find their way back to their docking station. 

“Lana? Do you copy?” Altrethir said into his comm. 

“I read you. Please tell me you’re on your way back?” 

“We are.” 

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to miss all the fun. Vaylin is here.” 

“Her brother is here, too.” 

“As I expected. We need to leave; they have us far outmatched and the _Gravestone_ is ready for takeoff. We just need everyone on board.” 

“We’ll be there in five.” Altrethir clicked off his comm, beckoning Thexia to follow as they ducked into an alleyway. 

* * *

The Sith returned to the docking station and not a moment too soon. In the near distance, Senya was fending off Vaylin herself, fighting defensively as the younger woman struck blow after blow. Lana and the Captain’s crew fought off skytroopers; once the last of the wave of droids fell, she addressed Altrethir and Thexia, “Hurry, we can’t let them take the _Gravestone!_ ” 

Altrethir gathered his power and sent a storm of lightning toward the next pack of skytroopers, taking them out before they could get within range of Remi’vu’s crew. Thexia and Lana cleaved their way through any remaining troopers that stood in their path before reaching the ship. They rushed to the bridge where Remi’vu and Fai were handling the controls. 

“We’ve gotta retreat soon if we have any hopes of makin’ it out alive!” The captain said. 

Lana left the bridge, heading back down to make sure Senya got on board. Remi’vu checked a screen, “At least the shields are still at full.” 

A sudden blast shook the ship, causing those who were standing to fall. Fai quickly checked a different screen. “Shields are at twenty percent.” 

“ _Mother-fuckers._ ” 

“Everyone is on board. Get us out of here, Captain,” Lana called through her comm. Well, there was a good sign, at least. Remi’vu punched a few buttons and Fai flipped some switches. The engines of the _Gravestone_ powered up and hummed throughout the bridge. 

“Pierce - fire up the ion canon, time to see what this thing can do!” 

“Best thing I’ve heard all day, Captain,” the Major’s voice sounded from his comm. 

Remi’vu navigated the ship away from the port and into the atmosphere, angling themselves directly at the Eternal Fleet. Well, he thought, time to pray that these legends are true. Fai monitored Pierce’s progress from below, “Ion canon is at fifty-two percent.” 

Another blast shook the ship. 

“Seventy-four.” 

Remi’vu tapped a few buttons in an attempt to deploy the emergency shields. 

“Ninety-one.” 

Three more seconds passed and Pierce’s voice sounded from the comm, “All fired up and ready to go on your command!” 

“Let those suckers have it!” 

A loud hum echoed throughout the bridge, accompanying the sound of gathering electricity. From the windows, a large beam fired from the canon, aiming straight toward one of the Fleet’s ships. The beam hit its mark then began to spread from ship to ship, leaving explosions in its wake. The sight was like that of fireworks on a holiday’s night, but left the viewers in even more awe. Remi’vu’s jaw had dropped as he mentally counted each ship that blew up. 

Twenty-four. 

Twenty-four ships in total were obliterated by a single shot from the canon. That was going to be all they could get for a while, so they needed to take advantage of the opportunity. “Get those thrusters on and let’s blow this popsicle stand!” 

The _Gravestone_ ascended further into the sky, flying straight through the path they created with the ion canon. Once in orbit, Fai and Remi’vu worked the hyperdrive to navigate them into a jump to hyperspace. They were finally headed to Odessen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	15. Odessen and the Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a narrow escape on Asylum, Thexia and Altrethir's crew make it to Odessen: a secure planet that will serve as a blank canvas to create their new alliance. Altrethir meets with a familiar face and has some much-needed catching up to do.

The battle of Asylum created an impact: it proved that Zakuul was not invincible. Though Arcann and Vaylin essentially escaped, twenty-four ships of their fleet were taken out. The Eternal Empire had failed this particular endeavor to stop the Outlanders, and it was the Outlanders’ names that spread throughout gossip. News began to quickly travel how they stood up to the Emperor, taking out a chunk of his fleet in the process. And now, Thexia and Altrethir found themselves as individuals people once without hope looked up to. 

Odessen was altogether neutral, barely inhabited, and balanced even within the Force. Location-wise, it was a bit too close to Zakuul for comfort, but all things considered, Arcann wouldn’t think to search it. The _Gravestone_ pulled into a small docking port. Lana took Altrethir and Thexia to a shuttle, Remi’vu tagging along. Tucked within the crook of a mountainside appeared to be a small settlement of sorts. When the shuttle pulled in closer and docked, Altrethir and Thexia could make out Imperial and Republic troops, individuals who appeared like mercenaries, and just regular citizens: a diverse group of people of differing species. 

Lana stepped out of the shuttle and the others exited behind her. “Welcome to your new alliance,” she said, gesturing to the settlement with an open palm. 

“While I do not underestimate the determination of these people,” Altrethir said softly, “I believe we’ll need a little more than this to overthrow Arcann.” 

“It is just a start. There are many, _many_ more in the galaxy who would join our cause. For now, these people need someone to follow. They need someone to lead them to victory.” 

Thexia exchanged glances with the Twi’lek, her lips lightly pursed. Admittedly, he was a Darth she was more unfamiliar with. She’d heard how his opinions were controversial within the Council, but he still maintained respect among his colleagues. And he was smarter than most gave him credit for – powerful, too: power she witnessed first-hand upon Darth Marr’s flagship and in their trials with the Scions. She dipped her head to Altrethir in a small bow, “You should lead them. You have the experience to guide these people.” 

Altrethir glanced out to the small crowd, his breathing steady but his fists lightly clenched in thought. He gave a small shake of his head, “It was you who delivered the fatal blow to Valkorion. It was your courage that defeated Revan on Yavin 4. Experience in leadership doesn’t always make one a suitable leader, but someone with your confidence does. Be the person these people can look up to, Wrath.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t expecting him to give her such a response, and yet... 

“For fuck’s sake, quit bein’ so humble. It’s making me sick. Can’t you both just work together or somethin’?” Remi’vu said as he brushed by the Sith to meet his contact. 

“There’s a thought,” said Lana. “From my own experience in working with you both, I believe you could pull it off.” 

“I am not opposed to the idea,” said Thexia. 

“Nor am I,” replied Altrethir. 

“If that settles it, then it’s time to meet your alliance.” Once more, Lana gestured to the group of people. Altrethir stepped forward, Thexia following just a step behind. 

“If I may have your attention,” the Twi’lek began, the crowd’s turning toward him. His eyes flicked from person to person – it'd been too long since he gave a speech in front of such a crowd. He felt hesitation in his chest but brushed it aside. “I am Lord Altrethir Valran, formerly Darth Nox of the Dark Council. Emperor Arcann has stolen something from us. All of us. Although what he has taken differs from person to person, we all desire one thing: to see an end to his rule. To restore the galaxy as it was. To promise our friends and our families a brighter future.” Altrethir paused and looked to Thexia, wordlessly gesturing for her to continue. She took a breath and spoke, her voice unwavering. 

“It’s time we rise up against him; we will grow in strength and power. We will work together to bring him down. I was once known as the wrath of Arcann’s father, but I now dedicate myself to being the wrath of our alliance. Arcann will be brought to justice for those he’s made suffer.” 

Lana gave a small smile and a nod of approval. The troops in the crowd saluted, the citizens cheered and applauded. And somewhere in the distance, hidden amongst the crowd, Lana heard a faint “Hell yeah!” from the captain. 

* * *

Two weeks passed. The Alliance had made significant progress in creating a base of operations; they worked with the terrain of the secluded mountainside and branched out from there. More trusted individuals were welcomed in and the base was soon thriving. Thexia and Altrethir had been assigned the titles of “Commander” and oversaw the Alliance as a whole. And while Lana wasn’t keen on giving herself any titles, she take up the role of acting as their main advisor. To which, neither of the commanders were opposed to; she’d been loyal since the day they met her. In addition, she risked her neck in rescuing them out of Zakuul. She was more than qualified for the position.

Ashara made herself comfortable within the Force Enclave, aiding Sana-Rae where she could while still lending her help to Altrethir. And Major Pierce, of course, was typically found somewhere within the military hangar. Whether he was polishing and inspecting weaponry or checking ships, he was always ready for action when Thexia called for him. 

The Alliance felt truly alive by week three. It was a team effort; everyone put in their hard work to create the base. Individuals were still cautiously let in; Arcann could not know of their base on Odessen, no matter what. Naturally, allowing people from Zakuul within the Alliance was a complicated process. There were genuine individuals from the planet who wanted Arcann gone and off the throne, but the Commanders understandably heeded extra caution with them. If even one spy hid among their Alliance, it could be the end for them all. 

“Two Sith Lords passed clearance and joined this morning,” Ashara explained as she walked with Altrethir. “They seemed more diplomatic than anything. They’ve requested a personal audience when you have the time.” 

Altrethir stepped upon the elevator platform and pressed a button. He folded his hands behind his back. “I shall see to them in the evening.” 

“Good, I’ll let them know,” Ashara said with a soft smile, turning on her heel as the elevator took Altrethir up. 

It was mid-morning and the base saw moderate traffic. People from all corners of the galaxy settled here; sleep schedules differed from person to person. Fortunately, that meant there was always a decent look-out for intrusions. The Sith watched a ship pull in to the docking platform as he made his way across the deck, heading toward the cantina.

Troops and citizens moved out of Altrethir’s path as he walked inside and sat at the bar. Since the Alliance had grown significantly, he admittedly hadn’t met every one of its members face-to-face. So, he would hear the murmurs of nearby people, gossiping about him no doubt. He tried not to listen, but something couldn’t prevent him from doing so. He soon had his caf and took a decent gulp. He didn’t get much sleep last night. 

“Quite the place you’ve got,” a familiar man’s voice sounded behind him. Altrethir nearly spat out his drink. He set the mug down and whipped his head around, lekku trailing behind him. 

“ _Theron,_ ” he breathed. Altrethir was utterly relieved to see him – he'd begun to fear the worst after Lana said she’d lost contact with him. If he was looking for a way into the Alliance without drawing a lot of attention, he understood why now. Altrethir stood to properly greet his old ally, “It’s-” 

“Been a hot minute, huh?” Theron finished for him, seeing the Twi’lek’s face flush a darker shade of teal. 

“More so for you than I. But you don’t look a day different.” 

“Years have treated me all right, I guess. Could say the same for you.” 

“Carbonite preserves.” 

“It does. Look- I'm... I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to break you out. I wanted to – and I tried, but I would’ve been putting you more at risk if I was directly involved.” 

Altrethir softened his expression and wanted to reach out and touch him, but he'd attracted enough unwanted attention already. The Sith dropped his voice closer toward that of a whisper, “Let us speak in private.” 

“Following you, then.” 

Altrethir and Theron moved into a side-room of the cantina. It was out-of-the-way enough to provide them seclusion from prying ears. The Sith closed the curtain of the room to give them further privacy and Theron leaned against the table, his fingers drumming against the surface as he looked to the other man expectedly. 

“Lana has caught me up with all of the important things that’ve happened in my disappearance. I suppose the question is, then: where have _you_ been?” 

Theron shifted and pushed himself from the table, folding his arms loosely over his chest, “The SIS changed for the worse. I couldn’t work with them anymore, it didn’t feel right, so I left. Kept doing what I did best, just not for the Republic. Under the right circumstances and given the opportunity, I’d pass intel against Zakuul over to Lana. It’s how we found you and the Wrath.” 

“You risked a lot to find us.” 

“What’s new?” The agent said with an amused grin, “You’ve done the same for me. Thought maybe it was time to return the favor.” 

“It was a mere favor, then?” Altrethir asked, his tone dropping lower, sweeter. It was Theron’s turn to blush. He rubbed his neck, averting his gaze before giving a small shrug. 

“Well- no. Yes and no. I- you've...” 

“Take a breath, Agent Shan.” 

_Right_. He did just that and cleared his mind.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head. What happened on Yavin 4, Ziost... It all just stuck with me. I want to continue to explore these feelings – and I know that’s probably something you want, too.” 

Altrethir took a step closer, finally reaching out to place a hand upon his arm. “I was almost killed upon Arcann’s ship. I thought of you, regretting that I couldn’t see you one last time. If that wasn’t enough, you made a guest appearance in my dreams while I was frozen. Even in my subconscious, I missed you. Longed for you.” 

“Is that your way of saying yes?” 

“It absolutely is,” the Sith moved even closer, moving his other hand to cup Theron’s cheek. They moved in to shut the gap between their lips, eyes falling shut. Altrethir’s heart fluttered in his chest, wonderfully delighted to learn Theron wanted to pursue a relationship. Not once had Altrethir fallen so head-over-heels for a person and truly, he thought, this was a man who could fuel his passion for years to come. 

Altrethir felt one of the man’s hands on his thigh, his breath hitching as it moved higher. Years ago, nothing was off-limits; they explored one another’s bodies without refrain. The experience was utterly blissful for the both of them; and now, they acted as though they were with someone entirely new. He couldn’t blame Theron, in all honesty; he knew he had changed over the years. Perhaps he was only a fraction of the man he remembered meeting on Yavin 4.

Altrethir broke the kiss and a short sigh escaped his lips. They took a step away, giving the other their space. 

“There is something you ought to know, Theron.”

The agent blinked, half-expecting him to say something he _really_ didn’t want to hear. “What would that be?” 

“There’s no simple way to put this. Valkorion resides in my mind. He speaks to me, watching my actions to find opportune times to chime in.” 

And Theron blinked again, eyes wider. He opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment, he couldn’t find words. He sputtered a bit, “That, uh. You’re right. I see how that can complicate some things.” He lofted a brow, “But right now, you’re _you,_ right?” 

“I am,” Altrethir huffed in amusement, “I haven’t promised you power or attempted to manipulate you. Is that proof enough?” 

“Maybe. Guess I’ll just have to keep a closer eye on you, just in case.” 

“Indulge yourself, Agent Shan. For now, I believe we’ve work to do.”

“Sure you can't stay for just a little longer?”

But Altrethir tossed him a cheeky grin before spinning on his heel, drawing the curtain of the room and seeing himself out. Theron let out a short sigh, shaking his head with a smirk of his own. He could still feel his cheeks burning and his pulse thudding against his neck. He was glad to be back with his Sith. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theron's back!!  
> Thank you for reading! I post art of some of the chapters over on tumblr. My art blog is @kitblueburdart and my main blog, where I post updates on chapters & other swtor stuff, is @blueburds.


	16. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altrethir and Theron are called to lead a mission in the Zakuulian forests, recruiting refugees along the way. The plan is simple enough, but the mission itself proves to have many an unpleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a longer chapter today, but one I had a lot of fun writing! I'm absolutely living for all the tension, drama and angst.  
> Follow my tumblr @blueburds for chapter updates and other swtor stuff, and my art blog @kitblueburdart!

_An intruder._

Altrethir’s eyes snapped open and he sprung up, thrusting an arm forward to Force-throw whoever broke into his tent. There was a loud crash as the victim flew into nearby crates and supplies. Upon seeing who the intruder was, the Sith immediately released his hold, “Theron?” 

The agent pushed himself up with a grunt, a pained expression crossing his face momentarily, “Serves me right for barging in unannounced, I guess.” 

“What’s happened?” Altrethir asked, expecting some sort of emergency. 

“Nothing’s wrong- I just... got that weird gut feeling that I had to come see you,” Theron straightened his jacket, tentatively approaching the other, “And seeing how you look on the edge of panic, I’d say my intuition was right.” 

Both Theron and Altrethir had been sent on a mission that put them in the forests of Zakuul. Altrethir wanted to be anywhere but here, but like hell he was letting Theron take this mission alone. While the agent’s tactics were, more often than not, so crazy that they worked, the Sith went along to make sure he didn’t get in over his head. And, of course, because he’d be another layer of protection on his lover. 

“Valkorion is tormenting my mind,” Altrethir mumbled, rubbing his forehead. Theron’s brow knit in concern and he hesitantly took a seat beside Altrethir on his cot, keeping a respectful gap between them.

“You’re strong. Keep fighting back, keep pushing. Tell him again and again that you’re not gonna give into whatever temptation he’s throwing at you. Drill it into his head until he gets it.” 

“I fear he is as stubborn as I,” Altrethir replied with a faint smirk, jesting in hoping to lighten the mood just a bit. “He knows my greatest desires and he uses those to try and persuade me.” 

“Tell me about them,” Theron replied, trying to take the Sith’s mind off the unfortunate ordeal. 

“We’ve had this discussion before, have we not? Or- perhaps I dreamed it.” 

“We have, but not in a lot of detail. I’ve read up on some of your background from my own intel, but I want to hear it from Darth Nox himself.” 

“I’ve put that title behind me. The Dark Council is no longer; Darth Nox followed Darth Marr in death upon Valkorion’s flagship.” 

Theron shifted in his seat, “Noted. A little dramatic, but go on.” 

“I sought to end slavery within the Empire by using my status and reputation, such was my plan since the day I was hauled off to Korriban. Such drastic changes, especially in the Empire, take a long time. I estimated that I’d be in my senior years by the time slavery is ended; but if it meant that slavery _could_ be ended, I pressed on.” 

Theron let out an amused huff, glancing down to his hands on his lap, “You’re something else. I was raised thinking that all Sith fed off cruelty and violence, with evil flowing through their veins. Now _I_ sound dramatic, but that's how things are taught to younglings on Tython. Everything’s just black and white. Of course, when you get older, you realize everything’s in shades of gray. But you?” He managed a small chuckle, “Can’t imagine what Master Zho would say if I said a Sith had a good heart.” 

“Not all of us need to be so cruel; there is not a thing within our Sith code that says our feelings are a weakness. Our feelings are what strengthen us. If my passion is to find an end to slavery, then it shall fuel my strength and my power for the rest of my time.” 

“I don’t know if I can find it within myself to directly support the Empire, but I’ll support _you._ Every step of the way.”

Altrethir gave an appreciative smile to the other man, then Theron continued.

“A thought – a crazy thought, but still: would you ever consider fighting _with_ the Republic? There are a lot of people with your ideals – a lot of people who’d back you.” Theron paused, tipping his head from side to side in thought, “Maybe after Saresh steps down. Or is forcefully _retired,_ ” he muttered. 

“You know the answer to that, Theron.” 

“I guess I do, but figured it was worth asking. It isn’t like you’d lose a lot with the Empire if you defected. Things have changed considerably in five years.”

Altrethir pursed his lips, his gaze falling to the floor beneath him. Theron had a point: The Empire he knew prior to being frozen in carbonite wasn’t the same as the Empire now. And Lana had even told him that, but he had yet to see it for himself. As much as he would like to, he couldn’t exactly announce to Empress Acina that he was co-leading an Alliance to take down Arcann. How could he trust her? The old Empire was no stranger to treachery and betrayal; he was almost certain Acina would turn against him if he wasn’t careful. But the Republic? Saresh, Altrethir knew for a _fact,_ was a vile snake. Given the Alliance had mainly an Imperial influence, there was no way she’d be open to negotiations. 

“I grow tired of talking politics,” Altrethir sighed, still groggy from his slumber. 

“Should I brief you on the mission instead?” 

“Stars- no, save that for when I’m fully awake, please.” 

“As you wish, Commander,” Theron stood, turning on his heel and starting to back out of the tent. Altrethir clicked his tongue in inconvenience. 

“No- come back. Just for a bit longer if you’ve the time to spare. Your presence is comforting.” 

Theron paused, giving him a faint smirk and moved back to the other man’s side. He reached down, to take his shoulder or to touch him, he wasn’t certain; but the Sith took his hand within his. He brought it to his face, letting the agent hold his chin as he peered up to him. Altrethir’s eyes burned bright with passion – as any Sith of his status did, yet there was a specific softness within them that Theron couldn’t quite explain. He idly thumbed the Twi’lek’s cheek, content just living in the moment. Then Altrethir stood and planted a tender kiss to the other man’s lips. 

* * *

“We’ll strike the skytroopers here, then Red Squad will come in and flank those that are set up here,” Theron explained, reviewing the plan with their soldiers. The figures on the holo moved as he tapped some buttons; the screen projected an image of the Zakuulian base. “The Commander and I will be leading Gold Squad straight into the base. Slicing into the database shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. From our own intel, there’s no way to get into it discreetly; we’ll be dealing with the security system the second I touch the terminal. I need Gold Squad to keep them off my ass.” 

“We will not be overstaying our welcome,” Altrethir continued, “Once Agent Shan has acquired what we need, I will set off the explosives that Blue Squad set in place. That means that we need our forces to be away from the base before its detonation, including us, Gold Squad.” 

“We’ll regroup at the dropships and fly low back to camp. Any questions?” Theron asked and looked around their troops, receiving no further inquiries. 

“We move out in one hour. May the Force serve us well this night,” Altrethir dismissed the meeting then shut off the holo. He huffed a small sigh, still unfamiliar to reviewing battle tactics. He’d gone over extensive plans with his old crew before, but never with actual soldiers. And this assault required troops with military background and experience. Standing back upright, he brushed a lekku over his shoulder, tossing a glance to Theron, “Something is off, Agent.” 

“Yeah? What’s that? Should’ve probably mentioned that sooner, but-…" 

“The plan. It’s much too cautious for your style. You didn’t care to add a bit of your own personal flair to this arrangement?” 

Theron cracked a grin, shaking his head a bit, “Hey, _sometimes_ the cautious approach is the one that works.” 

“I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way,” Altrethir teased. 

“Don’t count on everything being like this. If I don’t give you a heart attack at least once per mission, then I’m clearly not doing something right.” 

Altrethir opened his mouth to reply, but a lieutenant poked her head into the planning tent, “Commander, the Sith would like a word if you’ve a moment.” 

“I’ll be right there, thank you.” 

She bowed her head politely and left, leaving the two men to themselves again. Altrethir’s attention returned to his lover, “You know I cannot do this without you. Please _try_ to stay safe.” 

“I will. For you. What could go wrong?” 

* * *

“Everything is going wrong!” Theron yelled in frustration and threw his broken slicing spike onto the floor. Flashes of lightning sparked behind him as Altrethir fried skytrooper after skytrooper. Accompanying the sounds of electricity was the constant blasterfire from both friend and foe. The Sith deflected a shot aiming straight toward the agent, gritting his teeth and whipping his head around to him. 

“Our groups are overwhelmed, half our troops have fallen, and the last explosive hasn’t even been set. _Please_ make this mission worth it!” 

“Working on it – just hold them off!” 

Altrethir huffed and used his lightsaber to slash through an approaching skytrooper. He’d only six men left with him in the base - they had entered with ten. A bolt sailed through the air and struck a Republic troop clean in the chest and he fell down. Theron’s heart raced and he felt his gut churn upon seeing an ally fall. It was on him now; he had to make this work. They were all counting on his success. He retrieved a second slicer spike and got to work, repeating the process but being more mindful. The lines of code were familiar; this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d sliced into Zakuulian tech. Scanning through the files, he narrowed his eyes and tried to focus. 

Altrethir couldn’t risk unleashing a lightning storm upon the skytroopers, and electrocuting them one by one was tedious. They were all in such close quarters; although he mastered his powers, he couldn’t take the risk in frying the tech Theron was still working with. And he couldn’t risk frying Theron either, to that matter. So, the Sith used his blade with one hand, and manipulated the Force with his other. He yanked up the droids and crushed them by clenching his fist, then slammed them against each other. Skytroopers that closed in on him, or got too close to Theron, were immediately hacked down by his blade. 

“I’ve got it!” The agent exclaimed and pulled out the slicer spike. He tucked it away and swapped it out for his blaster, firing at a control panel that let the skytroopers into the facility. Their troops backed out of the base, still firing upon oncoming enemies. Altrethir deflected and blocked shots before fleeing with the rest of his squad. 

“Explosives are detonating in fifteen seconds – clear out now!” Altrethir called into his comm. Skytroopers blocked the squad’s way from them and their safety. The Sith unleashed a wave of Force, temporarily knocking the droids to the ground, “I’m holding them off – go, run!” 

The squad didn’t hesitate. They took off down the ramp, confident they could leave a few droids to the hands of a Sith. But Theron stayed. 

Altrethir shouted, “Go with them-!” 

“I can’t do that and you know it,” the agent managed a couple of shots upon a skytrooper. But Altrethir let his guard down just for a moment and before he could protest, a skytrooper flew from above and landed a hard kick to Theron’s chest, knocking him back toward the base. The Commander heard the final ticks of the explosive timer and he felt a cold rush of fear overcome him. Theron was well within range of being blasted to pieces. In that moment, time seemed like it stopped. 

And it did. 

Everything froze, all but himself. The skytroopers were unmoving, the numbers on the timer were halted at two ticks. Those who remained of Gold Squad were halted mid-run, and Altrethir saw blasterfire hovering still in midair. Then he felt a presence. 

From nowhere, a vision of Valkorion emerged. His hands were clasped behind his back and he wore the same arrogant expression as he did on the flagship. His gaze pierced Altrethir as he wordlessly stared to him. Confused, the Commander gripped his lightsaber tighter. “What’s happened?” 

“Another glimpse of my power. The situation is dire and hope has abandoned you. I’ve come to make a deal.” 

“No,” Altrethir replied immediately, “I don’t know what you’ve done, but right now you are in my way. You are preventing me from saving-” 

“-The man you love. You alone cannot save him. He will die. Allow me to lend you my power; only then will you be able to prevent his death.” 

Altrethir hesitated, considering accepting his offer for just a split moment. And Valkorion must have sensed that; his lips twitched into a knowing smirk. “We share a mutual goal,” the Emperor continued, “we both want my son off the Eternal Throne. He is a child with power beyond his own comprehension; he lacks the qualities of a rightful leader. 

“I understand you are still cautious. I shall grant you enough power to save your beloved, nothing more. Then I will leave you for the time being.” 

The cold chill of panic still lingered within the back of the Sith’s mind. His heart raced, pulse throbbing against his neck. Valkorion was right; the explosion would be enough to kill Theron at that close of range. If the agent was lucky, the least it could do was severe a limb and give him some nasty new burn scars. Even then, the thought of seeing Theron in such a state created great sorrow within him. He couldn’t - he had only one choice. He wouldn’t tell anyone about his decision; after all, this was just between him and Valkorion. 

Altrethir’s eyes flicked up to meet the Emperor’s after a long moment of contemplation. 

“Just enough to save him.” 

“Just enough to save him,” Valkorion repeated, extending a hand. Altrethir stepped forth, the tips of his gloved fingers touching the palm of the other man’s open hand. And as he did, time abruptly returned to normal. Altrethir reacted with unnatural speed. 

The Sith stood right behind Theron and thrust his arms forward. A Force barrier of purple energy swiftly enclosed them as a sphere, then the explosion detonated from the inside of the base. Smoke and debris flew across and over the barrier. The shield itself was of such might that they couldn’t even feel the heat from the flames. Altrethir held his position, his eyes glowing a fierce violet and his lips curled into a strained snarl.

Valkorion kept his word; it was _just_ enough. The moment he thought they were safe, Altrethir felt an unbearable drain in energy. The glow in his eyes extinguished in an instant and he felt the weight of his exhaustion engulf him. 

Theron scrambled to his feet, catching the Twi’lek against his chest before he could fall to his knees. The agent frantically looked around for any more skytroopers – but they’d all been blasted into pieces by the explosion. And though they were saved from the blast, fire had begun to rapidly spread across the remains of the base. In the far distance, he saw their allies and waved them down. He clicked on his comm, “Got a nearly unconscious Commander – he looks exhausted but otherwise we’re okay. Get us an evac.” 

“Sending someone your way now, hang tight.” 

Theron clicked his comm off and looked down to Altrethir. While he'd seen similar Force barriers, the speed in which he reacted was incredible. To act as quickly as he did coupled with the strength it took to maintain it was no doubt taxing on his body. But to this extent? Something wasn't sitting right.

He looked around; the majority of the metal platform was scorched or scratched from flying debris, but not within a decent radius of Theron and Altrethir. The metal was pristine, unscathed and new-looking. The explosions had completely ruined their surroundings.

Altrethir groaned as his fingers curled against the agent's jacket. Theron gently patted his cheek and tried to keep him awake for the time. “Hey- hey, stay with me. We’re getting out of here and you’re getting some rest."

* * *

Theron drummed his fingers against his arm. He and the Commander had been whisked off by a rescue ship and were now safe back at camp. The only thing that prevented them from returning to Odessen were the negotiations that were going to be made once Altrethir woke up. The Sith’s vitals were fine, things were merely as Theron suspected: he fatigued himself from the fight, and that barrier pushed him just over his limits. 

Still, the agent couldn’t help but worry. 

But before he delved too far into his thoughts, Altrethir stirred. The Twi’lek grunted and brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temple. Theron moved closer to his side and knelt so he’d meet his eye level, “Sorry to wake you again.” 

“You’re the only person I’m pleased to wake up to,” Altrethir replied with a knowing smirk, of which Theron mirrored. 

“How romantic. You feeling okay?” 

“Tired, but otherwise I’m fine,” the Sith pushed himself up into a seated position then swung his legs over the side of the cot. “What are our casualties?” 

“Lost about sixty percent of our troops. Which was more than the losses we calculated prior to launching the mission.” 

“Their sacrifices shall not be in vain. The intel you acquired will help the Alliance substantially.” 

“It will, but it won’t bring back the people we lost.” 

“No. It won’t, but it will help us save even more. They were soldiers, Theron. Individuals with their own unique pasts, yes; but they knew what they were fighting. They knew the risks and they fought bravely. We will honor their sacrifices by succeeding.” 

There was a pause of silence. Theron’s gaze shifted from the other man, falling to the dirt of the ground below. He wouldn’t hide his feelings: his heart _ached_. Some of those troops told the agent about their families and friends – their lives back home. They told him about what Arcann stole from them, how they’d fight to the death to take it back. And they did. They’d never get to witness the victory the Alliance would eventually claim. 

“I know. But those men and women were counting on me to get them back safely-” 

“You will not take all the blame for yourself. This was a team effort.” 

“But it was my job to secure the data. If I hadn’t messed it up the first time, we could’ve saved more of our soldiers.” 

“Your intentions were not to mess up-” 

“But I _did._ And our numbers paid the price for that.” 

Altrethir put a firm hand on Theron’s shoulder, “You _cannot_ beat yourself up about these types of mistakes. We performed to the height of our abilities; our troops could not have asked for anything more.” He paused, allowing the other a moment to speak but he remained silent. Altrethir continued, “Our assault was still successful.”

The Sith stood, locating his cloak and reattaching it upon his back. Theron slowly pushed himself to his feet but Altrethir could still sense his frustrations. He wasn’t expecting him to let it go anytime soon, but he would have thought that the agent would have learned to cope with such losses by now. 

“Do you care at all about the people we lost?” 

“I do,” Altrethir replied without hesitation, “but I also care about making their sacrifices mean something. What more can we do for them if not ensure that we make the most out of this intel?” 

Theron huffed a sigh, not entirely satisfied with the answer he received. He gave a small shake of his head and began to head out of the medical tent. And Altrethir let him go – there was no need to dwell upon the subject. He feared he’d make matters worse, anyhow. Theron needed space and time to himself; he’d have just that. 


	17. A Golden Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thexia and Lana discuss a heist scheme with a Devaronian smuggler. To Thexia's surprise, a familiar individual is co-organizing this plot.

A swing, a pivot. A swipe then a duck. A jab and a dodge. “Good,” Thexia praised, “Again.” 

She repeated her movements, like that of a rehearsed dance, with her trainee. Their lightsabers clashed and sparked against one another as they sparred. She was unwilling to take on new apprentices, but helping to train new Sith wasn’t something she was opposed to if she had the time. And, since the day was slow and she had no other responsibilities to take care of, she figured it was worthwhile for newer Sith to learn straight from the Wrath herself. 

Their sabers parried off the other and she paused, “Channel your feelings. Use your anger, your hatred and your passion. Prove to me that you have what it takes to defeat the Eternal Empire.” 

The younger Sith sneered and charged toward her, unleashing a flurry of attacks that Thexia blocked with her own sabers. A grin curled her lips – this one was learning, but not quickly enough. She saw an opening to dodge an attack and spun around to meet his backside, thrusting her arms forward so that both her sabers lied on either side of his torso. 

“Not terrible, but there is always room for improvement. Continue your training with Lord Ilora; she’ll help you work out the kinks.” 

“Yes, my lord. Thank you.” 

She parted ways with her trainee, latching her sabers at her hips again. She felt the eyes of other Force users upon her as she walked through the Force Enclave. Some were in admiration, others in jealousy, and others in disgust. She smirked to herself, knowing how big of a blow to some of the Jedi’s pride this must have been. To be in such a circumstance where they would have to look to a _Sith_ for guidance – it was unspeakable to several. Not all, however, shared the close-mindedness; she found that most of the Jedi within the Alliance were reasonable. They reminded her of her apprentice; Thexia had not swayed Jaesa to the dark side and, instead, let her choose her path for herself. She taught her the code and her own ideals, and Jaesa ended up choosing a more balanced route. 

She wondered where her old apprentice was and how she was faring. She was far away, but alive. Just like her husband. 

Thexia’s comm beeped and she clicked it on to answer it. “What is it, Lana?” 

“Commander. Speak with me in the Underworld Logistics.” 

“I’m on my way.” 

* * *

Sabacc cards slapped onto the table and groans sounded from the group as one of the players pulled all the credits toward themself. Thexia entered, idly watching the game as she approached Lana. “You called.” 

“Yes. We’ve been presented with the opportunity to, lack of a better word, perform a heist on one of Arcann’s treasury ships.” 

Thexia quirked a brow, “Are we that desperate for funds?” 

“It’s more of a matter of allowing our actions to send a message.” Lana explained. She paused, tipping her head side to side in thought, “And we are hearing some grumbling about the poor pay. Motivation for vengeance may drive many of these people, but they still need enough money to live. So, yes. We could use the funds.” To her left, a Devaronian sauntered up the ramp, greeting the commander with a charming grin. 

“Good afternoon, Commander! Miss Beniko. So, has she caught you up yet, or did I get here just in time?” 

“Explain who you are first and why you think this would be something in our interest.” 

“First answer: Gault Rennow,” the man leaned against a stack of crates, “Second answer: I know your Alliance is in a bit of a pickle with the money-stuff. So, if you help me pull this off, we’ll be slapping Arcann in the face _and_ solving your financial problem.” 

“What exactly will we be doing?” 

“Well, it’s _my_ plan, but _she_ wanted to explain it to you, too,” Gault gestured to the ramp. Thexia glanced over and blinked in surprise as she saw a familiar face ascend to the platform. 

“Hey, Commander,” Vette gave Thexia a two-fingered wave and a small smile. 

“I was wondering where you scurried off to,” the Sith replied in a neutral tone. She couldn’t say she felt ecstatic about seeing her; she recalled what Pierce said back on Zakuul. Vette left her, forgot about her. She didn’t want to search for Thexia and was content with her disappearance. She chewed the inside of her cheek as Lana side-eyed her. 

“Yeah- we can catch up later, okay? Right now, we’ve gotta talk this out and tell you the plan.” 

“So - the _Gilded Star,_ ” said Gault, “It’s one of the Eternal Empire’s most well-kept secrets: a huge treasury ship that orbits a gas giant. Arguably the largest sum of wealth gathered in one place within the whole galaxy. Even with only half of it, you’d have enough to fund your Alliance for years.” 

Thexia folded her arms over her chest, uncertain if she was buying the story. 

“We’re gonna take it without them realizing a thing,” Vette continued, “then take our own cuts. Gault and I want a fifty percent to split and a place in your Alliance, the rest can go to the Alliance.” 

The two Sith exchanged looks, both of their brows were knit in thought. “It’s been five years, Vette. I could trust you then, but how can I trust you now?” 

“I wanna do something that’ll help people. I want to give back what Arcann’s taken from them, maybe buy back some ancient Twi’lek artifacts to give back to my people.” 

Thexia sensed genuineness in her tone. Where was Jaesa when she needed her? That was the only legitimate way she could discover a person’s true intentions. She huffed a small sigh, “All right. This had better be a good plan. Any flaws will be eliminated and replaced with something better.” 

“My plan is flawless,” Gault reassured. “All right. So, we’re gonna need an identity-forger, a missile, a tanker transport, aaand a warhead.” 

* * *

Those who were needed for the mission headed off to the planet and they awaited the _Gilded_ _Star’s_ arrival. Thexia would accompany Gault in acquiring the identity forger, then they’d take Vette to secure their warhead and missile. The tanker transport was flown by Lana. Senya and SCORPIO also joined the operation; Senya would pose as her daughter – by use of the identity forger – and find a secure passage into the _Gilded Star._ Gault would take Thexia and Vette into the _Star_ and work their magic, transferring its contents into the tanker transport. 

The plan was sound, little to no need for improvement. The group rested within a safe apartment to wait for the _Star_ to arrive and to familiarize themselves with their roles in the operation. In the meantime, Thexia found herself craving a drink. Her part was simple enough; just intimidate, exterminate, and eradicate. No need to brush up on anything. 

She poured herself a generous glass of whiskey, swirling it carefully before taking a sip. The taste was as bold as she recalled, and it reminded her of the Imperial galas she attended prior to being thrown in carbonite. Parties were never her cup of tea. Perhaps, she’d admit, they were nice on occasion, but they certainly weren’t something she could attend more than once per month. Most of said events were ones her whole crew could attend – but not, of course, without receiving looks from haughty Imperials. Broonmark and Vette specifically obtained many a glare. 

At the very least, her beloved captain made those socials tolerable. Spending time with Quinn away from the battlefield was always a rare treat in and of itself. Thexia would even take it upon herself to accompany him on trivial shopping trips for parts or supplies in order to get him alone, away from the ship and her crew. 

And how she missed him dearly. She took another sip from her glass, her gaze softening as she peered into its contents. A huff of a sigh escaped her lips. She’d brooded on this for too long – he'd become a distraction if she wasn’t careful. She could still keep her sight on the goal: she’d play her part genuinely, investing all of her being into the Alliance. And she _would_ get back her husband. Like Lana told her, the process was slow, but progress was progress nonetheless. As far as she knew, Quinn was still in Imperial prison. She’d brainstorm of ways in which she could free him. 

But the door slid open before she could delve too far into those thoughts. 

“Vette,” Thexia said, turning to meet her old companion. She gestured to the bottle of whiskey, “Care for a drink?” 

“No, thanks. Thought I should come up and see you now that we’ve got a little bit to chat.” 

Thexia moved to sit upon a nearby lounge chair, balancing her glass in her hand, “Where would you care to start? Pierce has caught me up to an extent, but I’m curious to hear things from your perspective.” 

Vette shifted her weight to the side, “What exactly has he caught you up on?” 

“What took place after I disappeared, after Marr’s ship was destroyed. I was informed of a... disagreement with Captain Quinn.” 

“That’s putting it lightly,” Vette chuckled dryly, “Yeah, we, uh, discovered something we probably weren’t supposed to discover.” 

“And you all handled it poorly. If I could find it within myself to trust him again, the rest of you should have.” 

“Would have loved to see you try and convince Pierce in that moment,” Vette muttered, “He wasn’t exactly in a reasonable mood.” 

“That doesn’t matter. My point is that you all claimed loyalty to me, yet Quinn is the only one who has something to show for his allegiance,” Thexia set her glass onto the side table and stood, “How swift you all were to turn on him, thinking he’d betray you, and here I find you off running errands for an unkempt, scheming smuggler. _You_ turned your back on _me._ ” 

Vette’s jaw clenched. While Thexia kept her tone low but stern, she could practically feel the Sith’s anger rising. “What? So you wanted all of us to go to prison for you? You really think Jaesa stopped looking for you? You think _I_ wanted to give up? Here’s something I learned in my years of survival: take your losses and move on. I know you think the same. I can’t-” 

“I would think that my own crew would have tried a bit more before giving up,” Thexia hissed, “How long did you spend searching for me?” 

Vette’s gaze dropped to the floor in thought. “While the whole crew was still together? Less than a week. I did my own searching, a lot more discreetly than your _husband_ but never found any leads.” 

“And how long did you search by yourself?” 

“A month. Or two. Things with the Eternal Empire started to heat up and things were getting a hell of a lot stricter. I- I couldn’t keep up the search without risking being thrown in jail.” 

Thexia had forgotten about her drink entirely. Her arms were folded over her chest, her eyes peering fiercely into the Twi’lek. She was certainly frustrated – disappointed, angered – yet the woman maintained control of her emotions, eventually giving Vette a sharp wave of her hand; “We’ve nothing further to discuss. Leave.” 

“Thexia- wait, I know you’re angry, but-” 

“ _Leave._ ” 

Vette felt her stomach flop. She was hurt, genuinely. As excited as she was to see her old friend, she didn’t exactly expect an argument to ensue. But she complied, despite her rebellious nature, and turned on her heel to leave the Sith to her privacy once more. 

As the door slid shut, Thexia snatched up her glass and downed the rest of her drink. Was she too harsh? Perhaps. Vette should have known that things wouldn’t be the same after so long. Still, a small fraction of her couldn’t help but feel bad. Maybe her longing for Malavai left her in a distraught emotional state. Yes – that had to be it. 

She ran a hand down her face then removed her hair tie, letting her curls fall against her shoulders. Stars above, this mission wasn’t supposed to be so emotionally taxing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Vette! Thexia just needs time to think and adjust. Don't take it to heart!


	18. Bloodline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altrethir is tasked with a mission to recruit the former Barsen'thor of the Jedi Council - his brother. Internally conflicted, he pushes aside his personal feelings to set out in search for him.

Theron would never cease to impress Altrethir. Weeks passed since their mission in Zakuul and he pulled the Sith aside to discuss a potential ally: the former Barsen’thor of the Jedi Council. Of course, being a man who did his research, Theron was fully aware of Altrethir’s relationship with the Jedi. But after some discussion, they concluded that Altrethir should pay his brother a visit - alone. 

With Theron’s intel, they learned that Fendithas resided upon a forest moon within the Outer Rim. No name for the planet appeared in the database, which was a curious factor by itself. If Altrethir’s brother’s goal was to stay in hiding, he was already doing an excellent job. 

Altrethir had his coordinates and set off into the Outer Rim in search of the moon. His shuttle landed in a clearing within the woods and he saw a cabin that was nestled within the forest. That had to be where his brother was. He kept his senses sharp, eyes darting around as to watch for hostile wildlife. He felt a presence, but it was intelligent. 

Altrethir heard a snap of a twig and the blast of a rifle. He lurched out of the way, tucking and rolling behind a nearby tree. That wasn’t Fendithas – but he did sense him nearby. The Sith gritted his teeth, pausing momentarily to think about his options. He didn’t know where his attacker was, he couldn’t merely whip around and send a blast of lightning in their direction. Hell, he didn’t even know where the shot _came_ from. But a man’s voice pulled him from his thoughts; 

“Get back out here, Imp scum!” 

The voice didn’t belong to his brother, but Altrethir kept his cool, “Lower your weapon – I’m not here on behalf of the Empire.” 

“I’m supposed to just take your word for it? You die either way, slime.” 

“Your actions are bold but you will force my hand. I’m here on a diplomatic assignment.” 

“On your own terms, right? The only kind of negotiations _you_ make are aggressive ones.” 

“ _Enough._ ” 

Altrethir stiffened upon hearing the new and familiar voice. He slowly turned his head in the direction of the house. Clad in robes of white and gray, and with a medium-sized bird perched upon his shoulder, Fendithas moved through the brush and toward his brother. His eyes, Altrethir noted, kept the same golden hue as he remembered. And his facial features began to show his years; by now, he was just over thirty, and subtle age lines graced his teal complexion. The Sith stood, meeting the other man’s gaze. 

“It’s been five years. Why are you here?” Fendithas asked, keeping his voice low. 

“To extend my hand in an offer,” Altrethir replied. 

The Jedi narrowed his eyes and his lips remained a slight frown. In this moment, they were both so focused on guarding their feelings that they could not read the other; it created suspicion and distrust immediately. “Zenith,” Fendithas called, “allow us a moment of privacy.” 

“Like hell I’d-” 

“Don’t make me argue. Please.” 

Altrethir watched as another Twi’lek emerged from the cover of a tree. He wore a foul sneer upon his lips, holding his rifle at the ready. He looked between the two Force users before huffing a sigh of defeat, “Fine. Thirty minutes and you’re not back, this guy’s dead meat.” 

“Glad we could come to an agreement,” Fendithas muttered. He shrugged his shoulder and his bird fluffed its wings, hopping before taking off in a flight to follow Zenith back into the cabin. 

* * *

“I haven’t a clue as to what happened after Valkorion was slain. I felt power – _his_ power – then nothing. I suppose I was thrown into carbonite moments after I blacked out,” Fendithas explained as they walked. “Zenith tells me that I was frozen for only four months.” 

Altrethir chuckled dryly, “Your friends were swifter than mine. It took my companions five years to locate the Wrath and myself.” 

“But you said that you and the Wrath were held within a Zakuulian prison? I must have been transported elsewhere; when I was thawed out, I found myself in Nar Shaddaa. I’d apparently been smuggled and hauled across the galaxy before Zenith could finally track me down.” 

Altrethir hummed lowly in thought, allowing a silent moment to pass before shifting the topic, “Things had begun to take a turn for the worse for the Republic after you woke up, but you did not stay with them. Why did you leave?” 

Fendithas slowed his gait and his shoulders fell with a sigh, “I never returned. There were those on the Jedi Council who believed I was dead. And, whether or not they would admit it, some were glad I was gone.” 

“I cannot imagine why,” Altrethir muttered sarcastically. 

“There is a plague that infects both Jedi and Sith culture: both sides have adopted close-mindedness into their practices, such to the point where thinking for one’s self is frowned upon. Both of the codes can be radicalized and it is rare for a Jedi or a Sith to adhere to them rationally.” 

“You strive for balance, then?” 

“I always have, and that is why some members of the Council disliked me. They wanted the Barsen'thor to fit into a specific set of ideals. I didn't, and thus my actions were condemned by the Council. Falling too far one way or the other is dangerous; that is something they refused to acknowledge. It is here that I believe to have found my balance in the Force. Alone, away from the never-ending politics and disorder that terrorizes the galaxy.” 

The two had made their way toward a secluded spring. The chill of the evening air caused Altrethir to shiver and he exhaled a visible breath. Ice graced the top of the waters in thin sheets and in a moment, snow began to gently fall from the deep blue sky. 

“What is it you’ve come to offer?” Fendithas asked, lowering the hood of his cloak. 

“Emperor Arcann creates chaos for the Republic, the Empire, and everyone else within the galaxy. We-… _I_ am asking to recruit you into an Alliance that can put an end to his rule. You would have allies with all sorts of different backgrounds.” 

The Jedi pursed his lips, his gaze falling to the soil beneath him. He loosely folded his arms over his chest as he thought it through. As before, he guarded his mind and emotions, leaving Altrethir guessing about what was running through his head. But after a long pause and a moment of contemplation, Fendithas replied; “I cannot.” 

“What-? Why not? You’ve nothing to lose-.” 

“I’ve _everything_ to lose. I am finally at peace with myself. I’ve found what I’d searched for since I began my training on Tython.” 

“You would cower and hide on some moon rather than fight for those who cannot fight for themselves?” 

“I am not cowering,” Fendithas snapped, “I am looking out for myself and for Zenith.” 

“I am thrilled that you could find serenity, but right now, there are millions of people who cannot find theirs because a tyrannical emperor rains destruction upon them. At one point in our lives, our goals were one in the same; you were just as determined as I to see our people free. But now, what's happened to you?” 

The Jedi made no reply, yet felt a stir in his heart. Guilt ate at his being but his stubbornness and pride prevented him from budging. He turned his back to the other man, facing the spring, and Altrethir stared to the back of his brother’s head. This whole scenario proved one thing to the Sith: Fendithas was a spineless hypocrite. He deemed him a coward upon Marr’s flagship, and he continued to do so now. 

Perhaps balance was the method that worked for some, but not all. The defeat of Arcann and Vaylin would come by means of sheer strength and raw power. There was no strength in the middle; one had to draw their power strictly from one side or the other. And Altrethir was certainly not about to become some Jedi. 

He could stick to his own morals, his own ideals and goals, without finding balance in the Force. He could draw upon the Dark Side as much as he wanted without a change of opinion. 

In addition to their clashing opinions, Altrethir still had hatred manifesting within him for his brother. He left him, abandoned him on Hutta, and never came back. The only individual Altrethir had been able to rely on - his best friend, even - left him in slavery to train as a Jedi. If Fendithas had accepted the offer to join his Alliance to help stop Arcann, perhaps that would have swayed him if not but a bit. But he didn’t; he was content to remain in hiding, to let his younger brother deal with the galaxy’s problems. The Jedi were taught to avoid conflict if whenever necessary, but Altrethir was taught that one should always fight for what they believed in.

Fendithas couldn’t even do that. 

The Sith's anger festered within his chest, feeling heat rise into his face. His bright scarlet eyes watched his brother like a hawk, observing him before the spring. Fendithas clasped his hands behind his back as silence swept over the two, then Altrethir began to approach. His footsteps were mute and his breathing low despite how furious he felt. 

“You will be right about one thing, Fendithas.” 

“And that is?” 

Altrethir stood a mere two feet from the other man. The Jedi exhaled slowly from his nose, relaxing himself as he sensed his surroundings. 

“The Jedi Council thinks you’ve died. Now, they’ll know for certain.” 

Fendithas heard the _snap-hiss_ of the other man’s lightsaber and immediately reacted. He whipped around and blocked Altrethir’s blade with his own, eyes narrowing into a fierce glare. The Jedi shoved him away with a Force-push, feinted Altrethir’s next attack and landed a solid kick to his mid-section. 

He expected Fendithas to have lost some of his skill, but he seemed even more of a challenge than Altrethir anticipated. 

The Sith had stumbled back and now watched the other calmly, though his pulse thumped against his neck at a rapid speed. Fendithas gave a spin of his blade as if to taunt his brother into attack. Instead, Altrethir’s lips quirked into a faint grin of amusement. 

The evening breeze carried wind through their cloaks, lifting them ever so slightly. Leaves blew by as the native bugs chirped somewhere off within the mountains. 

In only half a second, Altrethir dashed up to the Jedi and threw a hard punch against his cheek. Though it caught him by surprise, Fendithas didn’t let that deter him. He managed to block a flurry of strikes from the other man’s crimson blade, gritting his teeth and waiting for his opportune moment to retaliate. He just needed to defend-. 

The Barsen’thor let out a breathless gasp. 

A fresh cut from Altrethir’s saber tore through his body in a diagonal line. 

He lowered his own blade, eyes wide and mouth agape as he panted quietly. Fendithas managed a dry gulp as his gaze flicked back upward to meet his brother’s. He felt no pain: only an unnerving numbness from his torso through his chest. 

Altrethir’s rage had peaked during their fight; soon, he’d find his sense of calm once more. He watched the Jedi collapse to his knees, deactivating his lightsaber as he dropped it to the grass below. Altrethir stood over him and Fendithas sank further onto the grass, his breaths ragged and desperate. 

But then the Sith knelt, his head canting slightly to the side to try and meet his gaze. “It didn’t have to come to this.” 

“This occurred... by _your_ hand,” Fendithas wheezed. 

Altrethir scowled. His brother didn’t understand. He _still_ didn’t. 

“Your hatred- it blinds you.” 

“No,” the Sith muttered, “I gave you a chance; a chance to right your wrongs, a chance to make up for what you did to me. But you rejected. If you will not stand with me, then you oppose me. Nothing is stopping me from cutting you down.” 

The light in Fendithas’ golden eyes had begun to fade and his presence within the Force wavered. Still, the man’s words did not go in one ear and out the other. He felt an ache within his numb chest, his heart sank, and breathing had started to hurt significantly. He’d not beg to be saved; though his pride had ultimately been crushed, it was just enough to make him realize his defeat.

“You will ‘cut down’ the wrong person one day, Altrethir. And you will regret it. You are-” Fendithas coughed, "-not the man I grew up with. You've become... something else. Something worse." He tentatively reached to touch his brother’s arm, his grasp weak, “Find balance. For your sake, for your friends’ sake.” 

The Jedi removed his hand and let his arm fall back at his side. And as he bowed his head forward, the rest of his body followed suit. Altrethir caught him before he could slump to the ground, clenching his jaw as he felt sorrow wade into his pool of emotions. No – he wasn’t supposed to feel sad. He’d been wanting to do this for _years._

Altrethir’s rage had been quelled, but it was replaced with an overwhelming anguish. 

Remnants of memories from their childhood echoed throughout his mind. Memories by themselves and the short-lived ones with their mother and their father. He felt a violent churn in his gut when he recalled his dreams from months ago: the dreams he had whilst frozen in carbonite. How it felt to see his parents alive again, and how it _hurt_ when his own mother didn't recognize him, even in a dream sequence.

They'd been dead for years. And now, Altrethir had just killed off the last of his family.

Altrethir attempted to justify his actions – and he did, yet hot tears still streamed down his cheeks. His lips parted, mouth falling open, as he stared down to his brother’s corpse. He bent forward and gave into a choked sob, his fingers curling around the front of Fendithas’ robes. He pulled him against his chest and held him almost desperately, clinging to him, and weeping against his neck. 

* * *

Thexia slowed to a halt as she accompanied Lana through the _Gravestone_. Noticing her fellow Sith stopping, Lana paused and gave her a questioning look, “What’s the matter?” 

“I- I’m uncertain. I am... sad.” The feeling came out of nowhere. Thexia took the moment to focus further on her feelings and her expression softened, “It’s Lord Valran.” 

“What? What’s happened to him?” 

“He’s unharmed, but he mourns.” 

Lana’s brow knit in concern, then her mind began to race. Whose loss could have prompted sorrow so strong that Thexia herself could feel it? She was certain she was able to even feel it because of their connection through Valkorion. As for the cause, her thoughts jumped to Ashara: she was already on the _Gravestone_ , safe, within eyesight even. Then she gasped. 

Theron. 

Lana immediately clicked on her comm, “Theron? Come in, now.” 

Static sounded from her device for all but a moment before the agent picked up, “Bad news?” Theron asked. 

Lana heaved a small sigh of relief, thankful to hear his voice, “We’re not entirely sure, to be honest. We thought you may be in trouble, but you sound just fine.” 

“Yeah, all’s well back at the base. You on your way back yet?” 

“We are.” She paused, glancing to Thexia briefly. “Find Lord Valran, if you can. The Wrath can feel immense sorrow from him; he’s mourning a loss.” 

“I’ll-… I’ll get right on that, thanks for the head’s up.” 

* * *

Zenith pushed through the low brush of the shrubs. He saw the Jedi come this way – even though he requested privacy with his brother, he didn’t want to completely let Fendithas out of his sight. He knew what the Commander was: a damn Imperial. Whether he’d admit to change or not, he knew he was no more than a lapdog to the Empire at heart. 

When Zenith turned the corner and poked his head out from behind a tree, his eyes widened. The Sith cradled Fendithas in his arms. Zenith couldn’t hear his sobs from his distance, but he knew he had to pick up the pace. He knew something was bound to go wrong, and he prayed to whatever was listening that the Jedi was all right. 

By the time Zenith descended the hill, Altrethir had stood and was halfway back to his ship. Zenith ran as fast as his legs could carry him, dashing through the tall grass and toward the limp body. Horror struck his face when he saw the fresh lightsaber wound; his mouth fell open, but the moment of shock was brief. He let out an enraged, throaty shout, snatching his rifle from his back and charging toward Altrethir. 

Common sense was thrown out the window when he entered this emotional state. 

Zenith didn’t waste time in opening fire upon the Sith, but Altrethir whipped around and halted him mid-run with the Force. Zenith fought – _hard._ He seethed with rage that Altrethir thought would rival other Sith. But he didn’t have time to deal with him. It wouldn’t make a difference if he reported the murder to the Jedi Council, either. 

“You MONSTER!” The soldier screamed, “You run now, there won’t be a hell far enough for you to hide from me! You understand?!” 

Altrethir sneered. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the other man flying into a nearby tree. The impact was enough to knock the wind from his lungs, dazing him temporarily. Then the Sith turned and continued his walk toward his ship, opting to up the pace. Tears still trickled down his face; half of his mind completely justified his actions, yet the other half would never forgive himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So, you have chosen... Death."


	19. Justice by Arson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thexia and Captain Remi'vu head off to Zakuul to meet a mysterious contact; the transaction ends up being a bit more than either of them bargained for.

Recruiting new members into the Alliance was just as crucial as defeating the Eternal Empire. Most of the new recruits were welcomed with open arms, and others had the Commanders skeptical. While Altrethir was assigned to recruit the former Barsen'thor of the Jedi Council, Thexia and Captain Remi’vu were sent off to meet with potential recruits on Zakuul. Remi’vu was hesitant to leave the _Gravestone_ back at the base, but ultimately trusted his co-pilot enough to take care of it in his absence. 

Thexia had only been within the city of Zakuul once before, and it was while she was barely conscious. She could recall the faint sensation of falling from her carbonite prison, barely being able to hear Pierce or Lana, and feeling so weak to the point where she needed to be carried. She never really got a good look around. 

And as their shuttle pulled into the docking station, she saw the gleaming, golden city through her mask. Bright, vibrant and elegant, yet imposing and intimidating: like that of the Eternal Throne. And just like that which she saw in her dreams. 

Thexia pushed her lightsabers toward the back of her belt, keeping them concealed by her cloak as she exited the shuttle with Remi’vu. He, too, wore some manner of disguise; while his face wasn’t on Zakuul’s Most-Wanted posters, he still possessed a rather devious history. And it would be most ideal to keep themselves at a low profile, avoiding conflict when and where they could. 

They moved through the streets, mindful not to act suspicious. Remi’vu was putting on a better performance than Thexia – because, of course, he’d been through this type of situation time and time before. The pair made their way into the lower area of the city, down into the train station, and glanced around nonchalantly. Thexia watched the captain move over to a wall and he lofted a brow, “Don’t remember all this graffiti bein’ here,” he muttered, observing the brightly-colored paint. 

“The style looks familiar,” the Sith replied, “I think I might’ve spotted that symbol on our way here.” 

Remi’vu gently brushed his thumb across the stone wall, “Hmn, the paint’s dry, too. Usually this kinda stuff gets cleaned up immediately. It’s been here for a while, or no one’s noticed it.” 

“Do you know who did it?” 

“Just a bunch of hooligans, probably. A local gang or something.” 

“You’re not completely wrong,” said a new voice. 

Remi’vu and Thexia turned, the Sith surprised that someone managed to sneak up on her without her noticing. The captain looked as though he’d seen a ghost; Thexia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Alamor.” 

The former agent was clad in casual-Zakuulian attire, and a man that neither Thexia nor Remi’vu had seen before accompanied him, dressed similarly to Alamor. 

“Thought you were dead,” Remi’vu muttered, stepping forward to take a place beside the Sith. 

“That was indeed the point of hiding and laying low,” Alamor said. “We’ve secured a meeting place. Come, we’ll talk more there.” 

* * *

The agent brought them down further into the train tunnels. It was a bit nerve-wracking to walk so close to the rails; the trains in Zakuul traveled at incredible speeds, leaving no time to react if one of them was caught on a rail. But thankfully, there was just enough free space between the walls of the tunnels and the tracks for the four to comfortably walk through. And they didn’t need to go far; just a few more turns, then they were at their destination. 

The location was a dimly lit, small section of the underground. It looked as though power cells or control panels could’ve resided here, but were since moved out. Metal fencing enclosed the area, giving them a sense of security while still providing sight to their surroundings. 

“Lord Thexia, Captain, pardon the delayed introductions.” Alamor gestured to the man at his side,  “My husband, Vector Hyllus. he’s aided me since my time in Imperial Intelligence.”

“We are pleased to finally meet you. Alamor has spoken highly of you; you have our respect.” 

“'We?’” Remi’vu asked with a raised brow, “You got more friends around that I’m not seein’?” 

“It is our method of speech. We apologize if it creates discomfort for you, Captain.” 

“Why’ve you brought us all the way down here?” Thexia asked, getting right back to business, “Why all the secrecy?” 

“I’m not going to risk us getting stopped or caught by Zakuulian security,” Alamor said, “Even though what I’m going to propose isn’t illegal in Zakuul, we’ll all feel better about discussing this plan privately.” He nodded to Vector who retrieved a small holo-device from his pocket. The cerulean image that appeared was that of one of the graffitied walls Thexia and Remi’vu spotted earlier. “Vandalism. Propaganda. To few, a message of hope. But for us, it is the mark of a particularly interesting individual: one who goes by the name of ‘Firebrand.’” 

Thexia glanced to the holo image, noting the flames surrounding the bold white letters. “And what exactly is so significant about this person?” 

“She opposes Arcann, of course, yet she takes her frustrations out on the wrong things. Instead of joining a cause that plots to defeat him, she acts as a terrorist to the citizens of Zakuul.” Alamor flicked through the holo to the next image; this one was of a large building. “The Overwatch. We’ve had ways of monitoring her activities, and we know she plans to blow it up.” 

“And why would we care about Zakuul’s well-being? If I can take away from Arcann, then that is a victory in my book.” 

“Think of the bigger picture, my lord. Do you plan to take the Eternal Throne for yourself when the time comes? You must show the people of Zakuul that you are better than Arcann if they are to respect you.” 

Thexia’s eyes fell in thought. 

_If._ If she took the Eternal Throne. 

“So we are planning to stop her?” 

“That is our goal,” Alamor nodded, “But you won’t walk away empty-handed. Vector and I would like a place in your Alliance. And, in addition, you might convince Firebrand to join.” 

“What-? After all we’d do to stop her?” 

“We all share mutual goals, at the end of the day. And if anyone can get through to her, I have a feeling it’d be you. Firebrand possesses a fanbase of sorts and additional connections through Zakuul that you could find useful. She is an enemy of Arcann, but could be an ally to you.” 

Thexia exchanged a glance with Remi’vu, who looked just as conflicted about the whole ordeal as she did. His arms loosely folded over his chest, but eventually he shrugged, “What the hell. Never a bad idea to have the people’s support. I say we go for it.” 

Alamor looked to Thexia expectantly. 

“Very well. How do we begin?” 

* * *

Thexia and Remi’vu breached the Overwatch building. Skytroopers were on high alert; whatever cover they’d hoped to keep had been blown. Her sabers cleaved through another pack as Remi’vu charged up an electrical detonator. He hurled it forward, into the oncoming pack, and an explosion of electricity erupted from the bomb. The skytroopers stunned, Thexia dragged her blades in a whirl to cut them all clean in half. 

“Shit’s way too easy with a Sith babysitting ya,” Remi’vu snickered. “We don’t make such a bad team.” 

“I’m used to this style of combat,” Thexia replied, moving further into the building with the captain, “my husband was specialized in blasters.” 

“’Was?’ Something’s happened to him? Thought you and Lana said he was in prison or something.” 

He was right; she did. Thexia scolded herself for speaking of Malavai as if he were dead. “You’re correct – that was a mistake on my part.” 

“Got it,” Remi’vu said, stopping just behind her as she halted at a corner. Thexia poked her head around and saw no skytroopers. The coast was clear. 

A control room: no guards, no security, and she sensed no danger. But it was all very peculiar. 

“Proceed with caution, Captain,” Thexia muttered as the man followed behind. 

The Sith made her way over to the large control station at the far end of the room, then began inspecting it for explosive devices. Remi’vu did just the same on a nearby terminal, but they both found none. But as Thexia’s hand brushed past a group of buttons, she felt a disturbance from her Force senses. 

She darted toward Remi’vu and yanked him away from the panel, the captain yelping in surprise. Not a second later, the machinery burst into flames and promptly exploded. It was only the one, thankfully, and they were just far enough to be out of harm’s way. 

“Aren’t you quick on your toes?” A woman’s voice spoke, her tone low but held a sarcastic tone within it. A Rattataki emerged from a hallway opposite the one they came from. Remi’vu drew his blaster and scrambled to his feet, but Thexia remained calm. 

“Firebrand.” 

The Rattataki smirked, walking further into the room with a haughty bounce to her step, “Fans? Then again, fans wouldn’t necessarily be trying to tamper with my grand plans.” Her eyes fell to the weapons at Thexia’s hips, and her brows raised as her smirk fell. “Jedi? Or Sith?” 

“Would you care to guess?” Thexia drew one of her lightsabers and thrust the crimson blade toward the other woman, the tip just stopping before her throat. 

“The more bad-ass one,” _and the more arrogant one,_ “noted.” 

Remi’vu coughed and joined Thexia’s side, “Hey, hi, hello and all that. I don’t know if you’re aware of who she really is, but she’s kind of a big deal.” 

“I’ve handled Sith before. Not as big of a deal as they make themselves out to be,” Firebrand said. 

“This,” Remi’vu gestured to Thexia, “is one of the _beloved_ Outlanders of Zakuul.” 

Thexia sheathed her blade removed her helmet, allowing the Rattataki to see for herself. And she did, her interest clearly piqued. “Okay- and, what? Still a little confused as to why you’re here.” 

“We’ve common goals,” Thexia said, “Arcann’s taken something from me. Something I’ll never get back, but we’ve ways to make him hurt. Make him pay for what he’s done. Ways that involve more than petty crimes and vandalism. 

“You’ve suffered by his rule, too, Firebrand. I’m here to offer you a place in my Alliance so that we may have our revenge.” 

Firebrand was skeptical, understandably so. Her eyes narrowed upon the Sith as if trying to tell if she was lying, keeping something from her, or whatever else. “I’m not exactly a team player, and I don’t play nice, either.” 

“Neither am I, but I cooperate so that I can see Arcann dead at my feet.” 

Firebrand glanced between her and Remi’vu. Her expression softened if not but a bit, then opened her mouth to speak. 

But a shot of a blaster rang through the air and abruptly put a stop to whatever she was going to say. 

Firebrand grunted, stumbled back, and collapsed to the ground with a soft _thud._

“The _hell-?_ ” Remi’vu whipped around and saw Alamor and Vector standing in the hallway, the agent’s blaster drawn. “The fuck was that for?!”

The two Imperial men moved further in and Alamor put away his blaster; he spoke in a colder tone, “This has been a long time coming. Firebrand – Kaliyo – was nothing more than an arsonist. A criminal. She would have betrayed you and your Alliance the second she was able to.” The agent looked over the woman’s corpse, a sense of arrogance splayed across his features. “She has no loyalty.” 

“This was just a set-up? We do all the dirty work, secure a spot to corner Firebrand so you can come in and kill her?” Thexia snapped and marched toward her half-brother. His icy-blue gaze bore into her eyes as if daring her to lash out. 

“We apologize that we had to keep you in the dark, my lord, Captain,” Vector gently said, “But we never lied to you. We spoke the truth and only the truth.” 

“Like- ‘we’ as in _you?_ Or ‘we’ as in the both of you?” Remi’vu asked. 

“Both Alamor and us,” Vector gestured to the agent and then to himself, then looked to the woman’s corpse, “Take her datapad, her comm, and whatever else you think is useful. We may all still benefit from this.” 

“Vector and I managed to locate and disarm the bombs Kaliyo planted throughout the building,” Alamor continued, “All that is left now is to let the people of Zakuul know that you’ve stopped the terrorist Firebrand. I know just how we’ll do that.” 

“Give me a good reason to listen to you,” Thexia hissed. 

“We will pilot your shuttle, my lord, while you dispose of the body off the loading ramp,” Vector said, hoping to ease some tension by speaking in Alamor’s place. “Alamor and the captain will create a scene in the streets to draw people’s attention. They will loudly proclaim how Firebrand has been slain by an Outlander. The people will see that the Outlanders’ quarrel is with Arcann, not with the citizens of Zakuul.” 

Thexia sensed genuineness in his tone, but she wasn’t so eager to trust them again. Slowly she backed away but her eyes remained glued to the agent, a sneer curling her lips. 

“And how are we gonna meet back up with them?” Remi’vu said. 

“Vector - the coordinates to base one-sixty-two, do you have them?” 

“We do, agent.” 

“Then we will rendezvous there. Take what you want from Kaliyo, then we will be on our way.” 

* * *

The plan went underway and was enacted flawlessly. Alamor was quite the actor, as was Remi’vu, and they managed to cause commotion just as Thexia lifted Firebrand’s corpse and tossed her out the ship as if she were a prop. The expressions of the Zakuulian people were mixed: some frightened, some in awe, and there were one or two with large grins on their faces, glad that the terrorist had been brought to justice. Thexia’s gaze swept across the crowd before she ascended the ramp, Vector making a speedy getaway just before security could be sent after them. 

Vector took the shuttle through obscure paths and routes, essentially deterring anyone who was on their tail. The detour would also give Alamor and Remi’vu time to reach the meeting point. After twenty or so minutes of flying, the shuttle landed smoothly, but quietly, in an underworld docking port. And sure enough, both the captain and agent awaited them. 

“Quite the performers,” Thexia said, leaning against a supporting pole for the ramp. 

“You flatter me, m’lord,” Remi’vu bowed dramatically. 

“I suppose you and Vector still want a place in my Alliance?” She looked to Alamor. 

“If you may pardon what happened earlier,” Vector said as he descended the ramp, “we would love to join.” 

“We are still very much Imperial, my lord,” Alamor said, “and we want to see the Empire freed from Arcann’s grasp. We’ll fight to see it happen. We won’t pull any more stunts like this, I promise you.” 

Thexia’s lips turned into a small frown, her expression contemplative but not cold. To have the former Imperial Intelligence agent, Cipher Nine, as an asset for the Alliance was an idea that, on the surface, sounded like a no-brainer. But how could she trust that he’d be straight forward with his motives? His word meant little to nothing to her. 

“I am gracing you with a second chance. You may join, but after you’ve passed your clearance, I want you both working on gathering intel. Anything that could help us gain the upper hand on Arcann. You contacted us before, you know how to do so again. Reach us using that method.” 

“Understood. Thank you for this opportunity; it’s one we won’t waste.” 

“For your sake, agent, I hope not.” Thexia turned on her heel and walked back up the ramp with Remi’vu behind. She sat in the co-pilot's seat as the captain brought the ramp back up, then they took off. The sun of Zakuul had begun to set, painting the late-afternoon sky shades of orange and pink. Perhaps she could appreciate the sight more if it were not in enemy territory. 

“He’s certainly somethin’,” Remi’vu muttered as he punched coordinates into the terminal. “You trust him?” 

“Not at all, Captain. That is why we’re keeping him at an arm’s length.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post updates and swtor writing stuff over on my tumblr, @blueburds, and art on my art blog @kitblueburdart. Big thank you to tumblr user @pooktales for helping me revise and edit this chapter :D


	20. Arcann Outmatched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has finally come to strike at Emperor Arcann directly.

It was a common yet useful tactic when fighting multiple enemies: to separate them and pick them off individually until achieving victory. It was just what Arcann planned; he had his foes just where he wanted them. 

“I’ve been doing some research,” the Emperor said, slowly pacing while keeping his blade pointed toward his opponent, “And I’ve brushed up on my skills.” 

“Good. Then this will be a worthy challenge,” Altrethir replied. He kept his hand by his own lightsaber, opting to bait Arcann’s first strike. He’d fallen for a similar trick before and he wondered if he’d do it again. For all of the Emperor’s calm demeanor when conversing, he had a short temper in combat. If Altrethir could make himself appear vulnerable enough, that’d be all he needed. 

But Arcann wasn’t so quick to act this time. He indeed noticed the placement of the sorcerer’s hand, keeping a watch within his peripheral. “A challenge you will succumb to.” 

Altrethir huffed a haughty chuckle, “Valkorion says otherwise.” 

And that was what did it. Arcann growled in frustration before dashing forward, then slashed his blade in a downward strike. Altrethir drew his saber – cutting it a bit too close – and deflected the attack, pivoting on his foot to leg-sweep his opponent. Arcann scrambled up but dodged the crimson blade plunging toward him. 

Altrethir was just able to keep up with his movements. Thanks to his additional melee-combat training, he was managing better than he expected. Sparks flew from their sabers as they clashed, sharp hisses accompanying the flashes of light. The sorcerer kept his breathing steady and focused on channeling his emotions through his actions. Arcann did so similarly, yet differed from the way in which Sith were taught. 

Perhaps that was a weakness in which Altrethir could exploit? He just had to fend him off a bit further. 

He knocked Arcann back with a Force-push, sending him crashing into a metal wall. Then he gathered a charge of lightning and thrust his arm forward, sending veins of electricity toward his opponent. Arcann blocked the assault with his blade before advancing closer. 

“You rely too heavily upon my father’s power!” 

“ _Thus_ far,” Altrethir sheathed his blade to pour more energy into his electricity, “he’s been silent. My strength is my own.” 

Arcann’s visible brow knit heavily as he clenched his jaw. “Then that means you’re weaker,” he muttered. He took a risk in dropping one of his hands from the hilt of his lightsaber and shoved said hand forward, sending a wave of Force toward Altrethir. This was an opportunity he _had_ to take advantage of. He needed to do something the Sith didn’t expect, something he’d not seen before. Something he wouldn’t anticipate in a duel. 

The electricity dissipated and Altrethir saw Arcann dashing toward him once more. He raised his saber and angled it for a block, but the Emperor feinted at the last second, slipping around to the sorcerer’s back. Altrethir tried to turn but his cloak was caught – by what, he couldn’t tell. 

Then Arcann did the nastiest thing he could do to an opponent like Altrethir. His hand roughly wrapped around his left lekku and made a sharp tug, plunging his lightsaber through the Sith’s chest. 

The yank on his over-sensitive appendage was enough to make Altrethir lose his vision. Everything had suddenly blurred, darkness crept around the edges of his peripheral. And in addition, there was a loud, piercing ringing in his ears. Had Arcann grasped any higher, he likely would have permanently blinded him. 

And the pain – the pain was _excruciating_. Never had he heard himself make such an agonized cry. 

The Sith fell forward, dropping his lightsaber with a _clang_ upon the metal flooring. His hands shook, his breaths shallow and short, and he struggled but couldn’t push himself up. 

“I’m finished with you,” Arcann sneered, turning to leave his foe to his demise. 

* * *

Another metal panel clattered to the ground with a loud crash. Thexia huffed and panted, her eyes darting back and forth in hopes of finding some way through. This maze Arcann led her down was as annoying as it was pointless. She knew what he was up to – and that was all the more reason for her to get back to help Altrethir as soon as she could. 

Metal scraped and groaned against itself as a sheet peeled away from the wall. If she couldn’t find her way out, she’d make a way out. The ship was already coming apart, anyway. But finally, she started to hear the faint noise of lightsabers clashing. 

“Dammit,” Thexia muttered, “we were supposed to take him _together._ ” 

Through the new hole she made, she began to climb. She had to make jumps across some larger gaps, using the Force to give her an extra boost. And as she crawled up onto a deck, she could just feel Valkorion in the back of her mind. He wanted something; he waited for his moment to pester her. 

Finally, after minutes of blindly finding her way through the underbelly of the ship, she reached Arcann and Altrethir. 

And she was too late. 

Thexia’s mouth opened in a soft gasp. The Twi’lek lay unmoving on the ground, his lightsaber several feet away from him. 

Arcann spotted the new Sith who entered, pointing his amber blade toward her, “Your companion failed. What chance do you have?” 

Thexia ignited her blades and let out a throaty shout as she leapt forward. Her sabers clashed against Arcann’s as he parried her attack, but she did not relent. Arcann did not count on being so fatigued after his encounter with the sorcerer; he found himself reacting too slow, his poor timing nearly costing him his head. 

Her rage burned like fire, peaking upon seeing an ally fall. Arcann had to die; there would be _no_ mercy for him, nor his sister, nor for anyone who followed his tyrannical ideals. 

She lashed out with ferocity, grunting each time her blade hit. She could tell she was wearing Arcann down – that was the point. All he could do was defend until just the right moment. 

And before she got ahead of herself, time began to slow, then freeze. She recognized the sensation. Though she knew Valkorion would eventually show up, he certainly chose the most inconvenient of times. “What?” She hissed. 

“My son _will_ outmatch you,” the man spoke. 

“Yet once again, I have the upper hand. He will fall to my blades.” 

“Who is to say he is not conserving his energy? You focus so much on yourself that you never bother to read your opponent.” 

Thexia’s lips turned into a sneer, “Then I counter or evade. I’m swift on my toes.” 

“He’s bested you before. He will do so again.” 

“Is there a reason as to why you’ve interrupted our battle? I’d like to continue.” 

Valkorion smirked, slowly turning his head toward Altrethir’s unmoving body, “Nox has failed. He foolishly rejected my offer for power to aid him and, as a result, he paid a heavy price. You are the only hope left for your Alliance, for those you care for. 

“Guarantee that the outcome of the battle favors you. Accept my help, defeat my son.” 

He-… had a point. He wasn’t _wrong_. Thexia never doubted her own strength, but something about using Valkorion’s power to slay Arcann would be delicious. Arcann, who sought nothing more than to see the end of his father, would be exterminated by his father’s power. And not even at its fullest; Thexia would only be using a fraction, she imagined. 

“Do it,” she muttered, but her glare did not let up. 

Valkorion smiled, satisfied that they were finally able to come to an agreement. He wordlessly extended a hand, palm facing upward, and Thexia tentatively reached out to take it. 

Then time returned. Thexia’s blades naturally struck Arcann’s, but the man’s eyes widened. She moved with an unnatural speed; her blades pierced and jabbed, slashed and swiped with movement he hadn’t yet seen. And finally, her saber landed a decent hit. His mechanical arm was cut clean off and as he reacted, Thexia plunged her boot into his chest. 

Arcann scampered backward and was immediately flung against the wall by use of the Force. “ _Father,_ ” he growled, though his voice was strained. Thexia’s eyes glowed a merciless bright purple and she curled her fingers to Force-choke her foe. 

The Sith took a sickening pleasure in watching him struggle, knowing he couldn’t break free. Her utter hatred for this man fueled her strength that Valkorion gifted her. Thexia tightened her grasp, feeling his windpipe crush beneath her fingers. 

“ _Suffer,_ ” her voice carried a venomous tone, the word spoken slowly in intimidation. 

But just as the light in his eyes began to dim, a violent explosion shook the room. Ah- there was indeed the matter of the ship coming apart. Thexia’s focus faltered for all but a moment, and a large sheet of metal fell from the ceiling. The violet hue in her eyes was abruptly snuffed out as it crashed just in front of her, separating her from Arcann. 

“No,” Thexia gripped the hilts of her saber deathly tight, “ _No!_ ” 

Another explosion shook the ship and Thexia lost her balance, stumbling and falling right before Altrethir. Her heart hammered in her chest, audible even within her ears. He wasn’t dead – Arcann's presence within the Force wavered, but he wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be denied the kill _again-._

“Thexia,” 

She tensed, whipping her head toward her fellow Sith. And as she took the moment to observe, she noticed that he, too, was barely holding on. 

“We must-… we must leave. Now.” 

She gritted her teeth as another explosion rocked the ship. To let her prey escape again was a severe blow to her pride. But just as before, the detonation of their location prevented her from completing her task. And she knew Altrethir was right. 

Thexia begrudgingly clicked on her comm, “Captain, prepare for our arrival. We’re returning to the _Gravestone._ ” 

“We’ll have a hangar open for you – fly safe.” 

She pocketed the device and lifted the sorcerer, draping his arm over her shoulders as she did her best to navigate through the wreckage. He wasn’t too heavy, but the extra weight was enough to slow them down. Most of the hangars had been destroyed, but there was still some hope. 

“Lana. Come in, what’s your location?” 

“You’re alive,” the woman on the other end of the signal breathed, “Good. I’ve secured a transport in Bay Fourteen, but for how long, I’m not certain. It’s straight across from the docking bay we arrived in – get here as soon as you can.” 

“We’ll meet you there.” 

* * *

Thexia calculated that at least half of the flagship was completely in ruin. The lights flickered in the hallways, explosion after explosion shook the ship with ferocity. It was moments like these that she was grateful for loyal allies, lest the _Gravestone_ had taken out the flagship by now, regardless if the Sith were still on board. 

The woman trudged through and toward the docking bay, still carrying Altrethir. She turned and saw Lana and the ship- and upon seeing the state that they were in, Lana rushed over. She helped Thexia take him to their shuttle and settled in. “A close call, but you’ve always been one for excitement,” she gently jested. 

“He’s been stabbed. He needs to get to a medbay as soon as possible,” Thexia said, punching a few buttons to power up the ship. 

The hangar fell apart piece by piece but the three had retreated just in the nick of time. Thexia turned to look at the utter destruction, taking in the moment and regretting that she couldn’t finish Arcann off. She gripped the controller, her glove creaking softly. Lana spoke with Capatain Remi’vu over the comm, securing their landing, and Thexia kept quiet as she steered the ship into the _Gravestone’s_ hangar. 

Their shuttle landed. A welcoming party rushed into the landing zone, Theron somewhere within the small crowd. Lana was the first to exit the ship, immediately calling out to the group, “Get a medic – now!” 

* * *

“Aside from the lightsaber wound, Lord Valran also appears to have suffered some amount of cranial trauma.” 

Theron pursed his lips, his fingers squeezing the sides of his arms as the medical droid gave him the details of Altrethir’s injuries. 

“He will need extensive rest and additional treatment if he’s to recover.” 

The agent nodded understandingly, though his gaze never tore from the Sith. To say he was worried would be an understatement; he could only guess what could’ve caused such damage to his brain. There were no bruises nor injuries of any kind upon his head. Being familiar with Twi’lek biology, he knew their lekku were particularly delicate; a yank at just the correct angle could do irreversible brain damage. It could cause loss of sight, hearing, smell, taste, feeling – anything. Altrethir could wake up blind or deaf without a hope of return. 

Theron chewed his lip. 

Were that the case, could he attune himself to the Force in order to feel his senses through it? He expected that it’d take training and time, but it was a possibility. 

What was he thinking-? Nothing had been confirmed yet. 

He already had the Force on his side. Who’s to say it wasn’t already acting as some layer of protection? Perhaps he’d come through without loss of any sense at all. 

“Theron, Lord Thexia’s returned,” Lana called in his earpiece. 

“I’ll be right there.” 

* * *

Thexia entered the ship from the airlock, tugging her helmet off and holding it under her arm. Lana saw her in, then Theron briskly walked up behind her. While Lana wore a troubled expression of contemplation, the agent was visibly frustrated. Thexia’s eyes narrowed upon him, knowing he’d been told what she’d done in his absence. She prepared for an earful. 

“You _shot her,_ ” Theron said in disbelief, “Senya was an _ally._ ” 

“She was. And she made her choice to abandon the Alliance to save the life of a mass-murderer. If my decision troubles you, I’d love to hear you justify her actions. To _disgrace_ the innocent lives he’s claimed.” 

Theron glared daggers into her, his face hot with anger. Lana stepped in before things escalated too far, “She was indeed an excellent ally and we wouldn’t have come this far without her. But now that she’s hindering our goal, we must act and adjust our plans accordingly.” 

“I was unable to track her ship before she jumped to hyperspace,” Thexia said flatly, “The best we can do is remain observant and watch for any intel that could prove useful.” 

“The day has been hard on everyone, Theron. We’re all frustrated, but Arcann is finally off the Eternal Throne.” 

“Only for it to be passed to Vaylin,” Theron muttered, “which isn’t any better. If anything, that’s worse. We can’t waste time by hunting down Arcann and Senya while Vaylin-” 

“ _Listen to yourself,_ ” Lana said, “Give yourself – everyone – a moment’s rest. Everyone has worked so hard to achieve this victory, allow them the opportunity to relax. What’s more, Lord Valran is in critical condition. We cannot jump into any sort of crazy scheme without his aid.” 

Thexia side-eyed Lana before returning her gaze to Theron, her own arms folded over her chest. The man shook his head but let out a sigh. She was right. He slipped down the path of allowing his emotions cloud his judgement. “I won’t sit idle. I couldn’t, even if I tried,” he glanced to Thexia, “But you’re the one who’s making all the calls right now. What are your orders, Commander?” 

“You’ve a talent for acquiring intel, Agent Shan. Continue to do so. Find out where Arcann and Senya fled and we’ll act when we are prepared to do so.” 

“As you say.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We're finally moving into KotET and I'm excited!  
> And thank you to tumblr user @pooktales for helping me revise this chapter :D


	21. Voss Under Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcann is off the Eternal Throne and Vaylin has taken his place. Altrethir and Thexia rush to Voss' aid when the Empress launches an assault on the planet.

A week had passed since Arcann’s defeat – and since Vaylin claimed the Eternal Throne for herself. In the midst of all the chaos, another former ally had turned traitor to the Alliance: SCORPIO, the highly-intelligent droid with a fixation on the _Gravestone_ , now stood by Empress Vaylin. 

Now, the neutral-aligned planet of Voss faced the wrath of the Eternal Empire. For what reason, the Alliance didn’t know. 

Altrethir’s wounds were mended from his battle with Arcann, though he found that his reflexes weren’t as sharp as they used to be. Medicines helped, but ironically, the Voss Mystics were likely the only ones who would have been able to heal his mind. 

The assault was merciless. Thousands killed already, the Eternal Empire leaving nothing but fire and ash in their wake. And Altrethir’s heart _ached_ – he'd a significant fondness for Voss and her people; to see destruction rained upon such a beautiful planet enriched with culture created a deep sorrow in his gut. 

He fought alongside Theron, defending Voss Ka with everything he had. And even without being Force-sensitive, the agent could feel the passion Altrethir poured into his spells. But he’d not lie to himself; he was concerned. He was always worried about his lover’s well-being whenever he threw himself into battle, but Theron found himself even more protective after Altrethir’s fight with Arcann. 

The Sith was in such critical condition that it put him into a coma for five days, and Theron hardly slept during that time. 

Thexia had managed to keep the Alliance in order despite taking on Altrethir’s additional responsibilities. She’d led an assault on the last remaining Star Fortress, claiming a satisfying victory for the Alliance. 

She’d earned herself a better reputation; while Altrethir was commended mostly for his battle tactics and schemes, Thexia was respected by her brute strength in combat. But with her strategy to take down the Star Fortress, the Alliance saw how clever she truly was. 

Leading her own squad into battle was thrilling. She’d done so before, but she always enjoyed the rush of it all. How she’d hype up her warriors with words of encouragement, how they’d shout and cheer before charging into battle. And to be leading Mandalorians – _that_ was truly the greatest honor for Thexia. 

They rushed the Alien Enclave of Voss Ka, mowing down every skytrooper and Knight of Zakuul that stood in their path. With Lana fighting at her side, Thexia unleashed her fury upon Vaylin’s forces. 

“Saw your reinforcements land,” Theron’s voice came from Thexia’s earpiece. “We’ve hunkered down in the former Imperial District.” 

“Keep fighting, we’re on our way.” Thexia turned to her squad who were finishing off a wave of skytroopers, “Mandalorians, with me! We make for the Imperial District!” 

* * *

Blasterfire rung through the air, from both friend and foe. From the cover of a fallen pillar, Altrethir unleashed a powerful flash of lightning, striking down all of Vaylin’s forces in one sweep. The Sith exhaled slowly, feeling his fatigue kick in, and he caught Theron casting a glance in his direction. He gave the agent a wordless nod. 

“Still doesn’t make any sense,” Theron said. “Why Voss? They’ve never posed any threat to the Eternal Empire.” 

“Arcann at least always had some sort of strategy, subtle or no. But Vaylin is crueler. More brash, extravagant.” With their temporary moment of peace, Altrethir took time to consider the details. “Were it merely her, this may as well be a random assault. But she is not alone.” 

“SCORPIO.” 

“Exactly.” 

Theron huffed a sigh, “That droid knows way more than she needs to. She could convince her to attack Odessen at any moment.” 

“But she won’t; we are still critical to her own goals,” Altrethir moved closer to the agent, still watching for oncoming forces. “Vaylin is the harsh waters of the lake, but SCORPIO is the dam. She controls where the Empress unleashes her anger and when.” 

“Think she’d even listen to a droid?” 

“SCORPIO could very much have convinced her of her trust. But that all being said, they must share a mutual goal in order to assault Voss.” 

Before Theron could reply, he heard a notification pinging in his ear from his implants. “I’m getting a distress call,” he said. 

“Put it through.” 

Theron reached for his holodevice and transferred the call. Senya’s figure appeared in a blue, illuminated figure above the device. 

Altrethir narrowed his eyes, and everything suddenly made sense. 

“Outlander,” Senya said softly. 

“Turn yourself over to Vaylin; she so desperately wants to see you.” 

“You knew she was here?” Theron said. 

“I had a suspicion. Vaylin must have known Senya was here; she’s assaulting the planet to flush her out of hiding.” Altrethir turned his attention to the woman on the call again, “Now: you’ve quite a bit of nerve to be hailing us.” 

“What I did, I did to save my son,” Senya replied, frowning. “You would have done the same for your family.” 

“You are bold to assume such,” Altrethir muttered, his tone dark. 

“Then whoever you care for – whoever it is that you hold dearest to you – you would’ve done anything to save them.” An explosion sounded from Senya’s end of the call. “They’ve found us. Please, Outlander. Arcann can change – he _can_ be healed. And when he is, he _will_ join your cause.” 

“We’ve not the time to debate. Prepare for the arrival of our forces, Senya. We’ll be on our way.” Altrethir abruptly ended the call, leaving his final sentence to carry an underlying threat. He clicked on his comm, “Thexia, lead a squad of Mandalorians to the Shrine of Healing; Senya and Arcann are there.” 

Thexia chuckled dryly on the other side of the call, “It will be done.” 

Theron loosely folded his arms over his chest as Altrethir ended his call, lofting a brow to the Sith, “You’re really gonna kill her?” 

“Perhaps not Senya, but Arcann will perish.” 

“Yeah, well...” He huffed, “Hope you can convince Thexia to not kill them both on sight.” 

“She listens to reason.” 

“Sometimes. If all the adrenaline hasn’t already gone to her head,” Theron muttered, letting his arms fall back at his sides. “We should move, they might start the fun without us.” He looked to the Voss commando who was leading his squad, and she gave a nod. 

“We will manage; your reinforcements will arrive shortly. Go.” 

* * *

The Shrine of Healing: for non-Force users, a place of purity, pleasing aesthetics and superstition. But Altrethir knew it was one of the most important, significant places for the Voss. It served as a sanctuary for those who were lost, bleeding from wounds of their past, who sought a new path in their life. It was a place where individuals came to heal – to let go of their wrong-doings. To forgive themselves. 

And he’d certainly hoped to visit someday with Theron – if nothing more, than to tell him of his own history with the Shrine. But the circumstances were a lot different than he would have hoped. 

Much of the temple had been destroyed by Vaylin’s assault. Voss pilgrims and mystics alike lied dead, crushed beneath fallen pillars and stones, and Altrethir felt another stir in his heart. He tore his eyes from the unnerving sight. 

Altrethir and Theron reached the bottom of the steps that took them deeper into the Shrine, but a transparent barrier stopped them from progressing. Senya approached from the other side of the barrier, a hurtful expression upon her features. 

“Let us through,” the Sith said. 

“There is still good in him,” Senya said, shifting the topic. “I know it. I can feel it. But if the mystics can’t complete their ritual, Arcann won’t be fully healed. He’ll return to his cruel ways.” 

A presence invaded Altrethir’s headspace; Valkorion, who had been quiet for some time until now, spoke out: “You’ve delved into his emotions yourself. You know he has no ‘good’ in his heart.” 

But the Sith narrowed his eyes; there was a reason as to why Valkorion opposed saving his son. If it did not benefit him – or if Arcann was a _threat_ to him – Valkorion would reject the idea.

And Altrethir had his suspicions from the start. Even though Senya made no mention of Arcann being of help in defeating his father, Valkorion still insisted that his son should die.

Another explosion shook the Shrine. The sound of stones cracking and shattering echoed above- and Altrethir whipped around. He tossed his arms upward to halt the falling debris with the Force, gritting his teeth as Theron scrambled to a safer spot. Altrethir flung the debris off to the side, taking a moment to catch his breath. Those stones weren’t exactly light. 

“Vaylin is relentless,” Senya murmured. “Arcann will help you, I promise. _Please_ , Outlander.” 

“Go to your son. We will hold off Vaylin’s forces.” 

Theron’s brows raised in surprise, but he didn’t object. A wave of relief washed over Senya’s face and she nodded, “ _Thank you._ You won’t regret this.” And she turned, taking off in a jog into the lower sanctums of the Shrine. 

Altrethir spoke into his comm, “Thexia - Vaylin is sending forces into the Shrine of Healing. Fend them off with your squad.” 

“What of Senya and Arcann?” 

“I will deal with them personally.” 

There was a pause from Thexia’s end. “I will do what I can.” 

* * *

By the time Altrethir and Theron reached the inner sanctum, Arcann was gone. An assault squad of Knights of Zakuul lied dead upon the stone floor. Sitting unconscious against the alter of healing was Senya, and the Sith’s lips curled into a small frown. “Where is Arcann?” 

“He fled,” a mystic replied. 

Altrethir bit the inside of his cheek. That- wasn't exactly what he anticipated. As his thoughts ran about his mind, Theron knelt beside Senya, checking her vitals. “She’s holding on, but barely.” 

“She used her life essence to heal Arcann,” Altrethir said. “Have our forces take her into Alliance custody. She will henceforth be a prisoner.” 

Theron hesitated, not entirely expecting him to give that order, but he nodded, “Will do.” 

The mystics sent Altrethir the direction in which Arcann fled. Theron began to see what he could do to bring Senya out of her unconscious state in the meantime, but with little luck. Kolto couldn’t exactly restore life essence – he wasn’t sure what _could_. 

But before he could think too much of it, he heard additional forces arriving. Thexia rushed into the room, blades ignited, and immediately saw Senya. “You began without me?” 

“No- we arrived too late. Arcann fled, but Altrethir’s chasing him down,” Theron jerked his thumb behind him, and Thexia didn’t waste any time in running after him. Lana huffed a sigh as she brought their Mandalorian squad further inside the sanctum. 

“Theron, what’s happened?” 

* * *

Altrethir turned a corner and saw the sun’s light at the end of the hallway. He pushed himself to run faster, ignoring whatever fatigue that he could. And once outside, he saw Arcann heading toward a shuttle. 

The Sith focused his power and slammed the door of the shuttle closed, causing Arcann to stop in his tracks and turn. The Sith lowered his arm, “Just a moment, if you please.” 

The masked man’s visible eye widened – of which Altrethir noted had turned a cool shade of blue, as opposed to its previous gold. The ritual worked. 

“And don’t look so tense. If I was here to kill you, I would’ve done so by now.” 

“ _Leave me,_ Outlander,” Arcann hissed. 

“I cannot do that, I’m afraid.” Altrethir stopped just a few meters before him, folding his hands behind his back. “Your mother sacrificed most of her life essence in order to heal you, but she lives. And she wants nothing more than for you to help the Alliance stop Vaylin.” 

“Why would I do such a thing?” 

“Because you don’t trust the throne to her. What’s more, you feel lost. Without purpose. Everything you had has been snatched away from you.” In an odd turn of events, Altrethir felt himself smirk with irony. How the tables had turned indeed. “But you care for your mother. Return with me, return to her. You will be unharmed.” 

An expression that the Sith hadn’t seen on Arcann’s face before spread across his visible features: soft contemplation, but even so, his brow knit with concern. “My father still uses you as his puppet,” he sneered, “You lie.” 

“He is silent; my words are my own. Reach out, feel for him if you do not believe me.” 

And Arcann did just that. He opened his mind, sensing the Sith’s thoughts – his motives, his words – to see if they held truth. But his focus was abruptly cut. 

“He’s here,” Arcann hissed, glancing behind Altrethir. The Twi’lek turned, spotting a very angry-looking Thexia standing in the entrance of the Shrine. 

Her eyes glowed with bright purple flame. She charged forward. 

Altrethir drew his blade and opened the door to Arcann’s shuttle, “Go - she will not take prisoners.” 

Arcann didn’t need to be told twice; he was in no condition to fight. As Thexia saw him fleeing again, she reached out in an attempt to use the Force to halt him where he stood. But Altrethir dashed forward and knocked her back with a telekinetic wave, causing her focus to drop. She stumbled, snarling at him, “Are you still brain-damaged? Have you forgotten who our foe is?” 

“My mind is clear,” he paused, but kept his lightsaber at the ready. “You struck a deal with Valkorion.” 

“I did,” she admitted, the violet glow in her eyes still present, “because I will not be denied this kill for a third time.” 

Valkorion left Altrethir in place for Thexia. Not entirely, as he still felt the unnerving feeling in the back of his mind, but enough to where Arcann couldn’t detect his presence. 

And why did Valkorion favor Thexia in this situation? He knew the thoughts of the two Sith: he knew one sought to use Arcann as a means to defeat him, and the other sought pure vengeance. And Valkorion took his chances with the one fueled by her passion. 

“Consider our true foe,” Altrethir continued, “and think to yourself: why would Valkorion want Arcann dead?” 

“Revenge. To see his Eternal Empire out of his children’s grasp.” She raised her lightsabers, “And now you’ve stalled just enough – he's getting away.” Thexia nodded behind the sorcerer, watching as Arcann’s shuttle took off. Her face hot with anger, she managed to catch him off guard. She swept his legs, knocking him onto the ground in the blink of an eye, “Why should I not kill you right now? You've turned traitor to the Alliance,” Thexia hissed, pointing one of her blades toward Altrethir’s throat.

“I still have the Alliance’s best interests in mind.”

“Really? You didn’t tell me of your plans."

“Because I knew you would interfere.” 

“Yes. I would have. But the last time I checked, we were both running this operation as _equals_. You make no calls like these without me.” 

And she had a point, but Altrethir thought his reasons justified his actions. How could she not see that Arcann could be the key to Valkorion’s defeat? If it meant they had to keep him alive, alive to ensure the entire galaxy’s well-being, then it was a choice he was willing to proceed with. 

Theron and Lana rushed outside, meeting the Commanders. “Arcann’s escaped,” Lana mumbled. 

“You’ve Lord Valran to thank for that,” Thexia sneered, sheathing her lightsabers and promptly turning on her heel to go back into the Shrine. She clicked on her comm, “Captain Remi’vu, status report.” 

“Not looking good – we've lost a lot of ships and they’ve still got more coming. We’ve gotta fall back.” 

Altrethir’s gut churned. He wouldn’t just give up on Voss, but he couldn’t hand over Senya, either. Theron extended a hand to help the Sith up, and he accepted his help. 

“Prepare for retreat. Arcann escaped, but we’ll find another way to track him down.” 

“Hang on- I got... Wow, okay. There’s a _lot_ of ships coming out of hyperspace.” 

Thexia arched a brow and glanced up. Even from the surface of Voss, she saw an entire fleet pop into battle. They immediately opened fire upon the Eternal Empire’s ships- and then she felt her heart skip a beat. 

Those were ships of the Sith Empire. 

“Captain, keep fighting. We’re not losing this battle yet.” 

“Yes, m’lord!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character conflict??????? Yes please thank you. c:


	22. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alliance receives an invitation to Dromund Kaas from Empress Acina herself. And in between the time in which they depart, Thexia seeks some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter contains torture! Since I'm a squeamish person myself, I did try to keep it tame. But just a heads up for those who are sensitive to the subject! <3

“Greetings, Commanders. What an honor it is to finally speak with you,” Empress Acina spoke from Theron’s holocommunicator. 

“Empress,” Altrethir dipped his head in a light bow, “Your arrival is timely and your aid is appreciated.” 

“At last, the Empire has finally been given the opportunity to strike back. We tire of the Eternal Empire thinking that they can simply steal what is ours. We wish to join you in your campaign to stop them.” 

“The Empire I remember had a tendency to backstab and betray,” Thexia spoke up. 

“The old Empire would have, but I’ve made changes. We both fight a common foe, Wrath,” Acina continued, “We’d be fools to turn traitor to you; we’d have the Eternal Empire, the Republic, _and_ the Alliance out to destroy us. With our combined strength, we may finally crush Vaylin and all of her forces.” The Empress made a gesture with her open arm, “Come to Dromund Kaas so we may speak in person; things have changed for the better since your imprisonment. Bring your advisors, if you’d like.” 

Thexia glanced to Altrethir, who in turn gave a nod. She looked to Acina, “Very well. We shall reach out to you before we depart.” 

“Marvelous. Good day, Commanders.” 

The call ended and Theron’s lips curled into a frown, “I’m gonna say it: I don’t like this. Everything about this is suspicious.” 

“She certainly has an ulterior motive, but said motive is unclear right now,” Altrethir said. “But she raises excellent points; she has little to nothing to gain by becoming enemies of the Alliance.” 

“Maybe not on the surface, but,” Theron trailed off and sighed. “It’s your call, but I’m still gonna do some digging.” 

“I will eagerly await your results then, agent.” 

“If that’s settled, we shouldn’t waste more time here,” Lana said. “We’ll return to the _Gravestone_ to head back to Odessen.” 

* * *

Voss suffered a great loss; half the planet was devastated, and thousands were slaughtered in Vaylin’s assault. But the Alliance offered their aid wherever they could, Altrethir personally putting his word in. 

The events of the incursion didn’t exactly slip Thexia’s mind. How hot her anger _burned_ for the other commander who stood in her way; how he denied her the kill, how he dared to make such a drastic call without consulting her first. 

She sat cross-legged upon the floor of her chambers in Odessen, glaring into her reflection within the mirror across from her. 

The next time, she told herself, the next time she saw Arcann, he _would_ fall to her blades. 

She blinked. Valkorion’s image appeared beside her in the mirror’s reflection. 

“You let me down,” Thexia said softly, but with venom in her tone. 

“On the contrary,” Valkorion looked down to her, “it was _you_ who disappointed _me_.” 

“I wasn’t about to waste time in a fight with Lord Valran.” 

“There would have been no time to waste whatsoever. I lent you my power, you could have slain him in a manner of seconds.” 

Thexia gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing as her fists clenched atop her knees. “He wasn’t who I wanted to kill.” 

“He opposes your desire for revenge. He stopped you from taking what you want, he’ll do so again.” Valkorion stepped before her, “You should never be so trusting of your allies, my Wrath.” 

In an instant, memories flooded into her mind. Baras. Draahg. 

Malavai. 

Thexia jumped to her feet and a snarl tore from her throat. She grasped her dresser with a Force-grip and yanked her arms to the side, sending it toppling over with a crash. Bottles and technical devices broke and scattered to the ground, liquid contents spilling all over the floor. 

“Save your rage for something more worthy,” Valkorion said flatly. “You are far above lashing out at inanimate objects.” 

“ _Leave,_ ” Thexia hissed. 

And Valkorion did. 

* * *

The Alliance base prison was small. It wasn’t often they came across individuals of whom the commanders deemed appropriate to throw into custody. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the prison, either. And currently, it was quite empty. 

Save for the one cell in the far back of the room. 

Thexia’s boots clunked with intimidation as she slowly walked toward the cell. The dim lighting within the chambers made her features difficult to see, but her bright eyes practically glowed as they drew closer. 

Senya tensed, fingers curling upon her lap. But she didn’t greet the Sith. 

Thexia peered down to the other woman, but Senya stubbornly refused to meet her gaze. The commander tipped her head slightly to the side and shifted her weight onto one foot, crossing her arms over her chest; “I’m not going to bother with meaningless questions.” 

She received no reply. 

“Your efforts were in vain. There will be no redemption for your son.” 

Thexia didn’t even have to reach out to feel the anger starting to radiate from the older woman. With the Force-suppressant cuffs locked around her prisoner’s wrists, there were no means of hiding emotion now. 

“There will be justice when he’s dead. The same applies to your daughter.” 

“You’re wrong,” Senya finally spoke. “He’s changed. I can feel it. I felt it when he-… before he fled.” 

“You’re in denial,” the Sith said flatly. She moved closer to the transparent cell shield, letting her arms drop at her sides. “Tell me where he is.” 

Once more, Senya fell silent. And Thexia narrowed her eyes. 

“I’ve ways to make you talk. I don’t need to tell you that. And if I cannot, then Valkorion will.” 

Senya huffed in amusement, “I’d give my own life to protect Arcann. There’s nothing you or Valkorion could do to make me confess.” 

Thexia took that challenge. 

She promptly pushed the button to deactivate the cell shield and flung her arm forward. Senya slammed into the metal wall behind her, gasping for breath as the wind had been knocked from her lungs. Thexia held her in place, her eyes wide in a glare. 

No – that wouldn’t be nearly enough. 

Torture wasn’t necessarily something Thexia was comfortable doing. But given the circumstances, there was some satisfaction to be had in forcefully extracting information. She couldn’t forgive Senya’s actions, and she’d suffer for betraying the Alliance. 

A Force-choke was too predictable. Instead, Thexia focused to delve lower, deeper. Slowly she curled her fingers, searching for that vital organ- until she found it. 

She began with light pressure around Senya’s heart, watching her react. 

A shrill of panic coursed through the older woman’s body but- no. No, she couldn’t give in. She wouldn’t kill her. She’d beat her within an inch of her life, perhaps, but so long as she held information the Sith needed, she’d be kept alive. 

Still, her heart leapt as the pressure grew. Senya was a stubborn as Thexia; she wouldn’t talk. 

The process continued for a long number of minutes. Thexia swapped organs from time to time, shifting between Senya’s heart and stomach. She’d been slammed to the wall several more times, choked – and possibly worst of all, had her mind telepathically clawed into. 

Valkorion kept silent and Thexia’s patience was wearing thin. 

The Sith flung the woman against the wall again, receiving another pained cry in response. And she stepped out of the cell before tapping the button to raise the shield again. 

“You’re becoming the monster you believe my children to be,” Senya panted. 

“And you're the one creating it,” Thexia hissed. “What’s one life to suffer in order to protect a million more?” 

“Arcann is no longer a threat.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I _do_.” 

Thexia stiffened. She was annoyed as she was frustrated; this was going nowhere, and she knew it. But the Sith waved a dismissive hand, “Hold onto false hope if you’d like.” She took a step to walk away, but stopped and turned her head to look to the other woman again. “The next time I visit, you’ll be broken beyond repair.” 

And Thexia exited the prison, mentally cursing Valkorion for not bothering to show up. 

* * *

Lana silently studied the images that floated above the holo computer. Sifting through information was as drab of a task as it sounded, but it needed to be done. And frankly, she thought herself one of the few who could actually do this job correctly. 

She heard the sound of the elevator descending but didn’t bother to look to whoever entered; she could sense Thexia’s presence immediately. 

“Commander,” Lana greeted, her eyes still glued to the images of the blueprints. 

“I’ve had no luck with my interrogation,” Thexia muttered, taking a place beside the other Sith. 

“Unfortunate, but,” Lana paused. “But we must be persistent. Senya is quite stubborn, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” 

Thexia shifted. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes flicking across the holo images. “I know you hoped things wouldn’t have come to what they did.” 

“Senya made her choice and now she pays the price for it.” And Lana left it at that, opting to change the subject; “Preparations with the Empire have been made. We may depart tonight and arrive to Dromund Kaas in four days.” 

“And have you dug up anything on Acina worth mentioning?” 

“To Lord Valran, no. But to _you_ , I think you’d find this particularly of interest.” Lana typed on the computer’s keyboard and a new set of images appeared. A portrait of Empress Acina, along with a list of high-ranked Imperials who worked under her. “There,” Lana pointed to a name. 

And Thexia’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Major Malavai Quinn.” 

Thexia could hear Lana talk, but she was so taken aback that she couldn’t make out her words. 

A _major_. From prison straight back into duty? How did he even get _out_ of prison? 

“He is serving as an advisor to the Empress. I thought you’d like to know,” Lana said, gently. 

“Yes,” Thexia breathed. “Yes, you were right to bring this to my attention.” 

The other woman’s lips curled into a faint grin, “I had I feeling I was.” She turned off the computer, “I know you are probably eager to see him again, but-.” 

“I know. Things have changed, the Empire is different, yes. He could have changed.”

_He could have changed._

The love Malavai felt for her all those years ago – was it still there? 

Yes- he'd sworn his loyalty. They exchanged vows. They made verbal promises to always be there for one another. But neither of them could have anticipated Thexia’s five-year disappearance. And she wasn’t about to push out a factor – a factor that was very much real: love could fade. 

It was a depressing thought that punched her in the gut, creating an empty pit in her stomach. 

She still loved Malavai. And she always would. Even if she outlived him, she would. There could be no one else to take his place. 

Lana felt her emotions conflicting with one another, so she interrupted Thexia’s thoughts; “I could do some more investigating on Major Quinn, if you’d like.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary, but I appreciate the thought,” Thexia replied quietly. 

Lana nodded, “Very well. Then, if that is all said and done, I shall inform Lord Valran that tonight is our best time for departure.” 

“See to it,” said Thexia as she turned to head toward her quarters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And for being patient with today's chapter. I took a bit of a break over the holidays but, since I already had this written, I figured it was a good time to get back into the swing of things. Find me on tumblr @blueburds and @kitblueburdart!


	23. Dromund Kaas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alliance Commanders head to Dromund Kaas after receiving a personal invitation from Empress Acina. Thexia has a difficult time focusing on the mission.

In and out. Inhale and exhale. The seconds ticked one after another. Thexia remained still. Her shoulders pinned back, her chin held high. 

The sudden tug at her hair nearly pulled her head back but she managed not to budge. The stylist poked and pulled at her curled red locks. She heard the scissors cutting to trim off dead ends as she requested, then felt a comb running through the strands. Her hair had grown longer in the recent year and, admittedly, its well-being wasn’t on the top of her priority list. 

Thexia watched the barber in the mirror as she secured a cylindrical-shape to the ends of her hair. The woman pinned the form into place then carefully rolled it up until it sat nicely atop her head. With additional pins and some hairspray, her bun was finished. The barber moved to her front to loosely style her bangs. She kept them down but out of her eyes, framing her face delicately. Thexia hardly recognized herself in the mirror; she looked more akin to an Alderaanian noble than the Empire’s Wrath. 

To finish off the hairstyle, the barber decorated it with a small crown that pressed nicely against her bun. Two spherical ornaments lied on either side of the crown, decorative chains falling from both. Those fell by her ears and were pulled up and around, tucking into the back of her bun. 

“My lord,” she said, withdrawing the fabric that protected Thexia’s attire, “you are all set.” 

Her hairstyle was the last thing that needed enchanting; her makeup had been done earlier and she was all dressed for the meeting with Empress Acina. Save for the pauldrons, which she slid on once she stood. It was _not_ ideal for Thexia to be done up so dramatically, but Lana strongly recommended it. And since Lana’s advice had yet to lead her astray, she went with it. 

She was certain she looked like a million credits – but it wasn’t _her._ She preferred her standard armor, her boots and her hair kept in an easy ponytail. Thexia felt as though she was putting on a performance for the Empress, not meeting her as herself. 

Unfortunately, Thexia was the one who needed the most work. Her companions, Altrethir, Lana and Theron, were outside the salon waiting. Lana stood when she approached, nodding toward her, “You look magnificent, Commander.” 

“The Empress had best think so, too.” 

“I understand your discomfort, but first impressions are frankly more important. The feeling is only temporary and we’ve all had to be done-up for this occasion. Come, we’d best not keep her waiting.” 

Thexia and Lana shared a shuttle whilst Altrethir and Theron shared another. They were small, seating two passengers comfortably at a time. As they flew through Kaas City, Thexia crossed a leg over the other, her foot idly bouncing. 

“This will be a crucial alliance to make,” Lana said, keeping her hands folded upon her lap, “But given your history and Lord Valran’s, we should have an easy time working things out. I only ask that you keep in mind the Empire’s changes; things are not exactly as you remember.” 

“I’m aware,” the other woman replied, keeping her gaze locked out the window. She hadn’t the fondest memories of Dromund Kaas; the most distinct memories she could pluck out were those of serving Baras. How he’d call her back to update her on something he could have settled over a holocall, how he’d make subtle threats at Vette when Thexia brought her with her. He was intolerable. She _detested_ that man. 

Their shuttle finally pulled into the port and the women exited the vehicle, Thexia struggling a bit with her extravagant cape. Lana straightened the fabric and walked beside her, heading toward the platform on which Altrethir and Theron’s shuttle arrived. As they stepped out, Theron adjusted the collar of his coat and brushed off his shirt, “Why do Imperial transports always smell like some cheap perfume?” He mumbled. 

“It simply means that you’re traveling in style,” Lana replied with a faint smirk on her lips. 

* * *

Thexia’s crimson cape elegantly trailed behind her as she followed her companions through the building. Her boots specifically made an ever-intimidating _thunk_ with each step. 

Then, her companions slowed and froze as time seemed to halt. The Force around her wavered; she recognized the sensation. It took only a second for Valkorion to appear once more, approaching her with his hands clasped behind his back. Thexia’s lips twitched into a foul sneer, “Out of my way. I’m trying to accomplish something important.” 

“I know you are, and I know that your words carry a double meaning.” 

She walked forward and phased straight through him but her mind still remained in its phantasmic state. “You will find what you’re looking for here,” Valkorion continued, “and when you do, you will be overcome with emotion. You’ll want to do anything to protect him. To keep him from suffering again.” 

“ _Leave me,_ ” Thexia snapped. She heard the man chuckle lowly behind her, and then she entered reality once more. 

“Commander? Is all well?” Lana asked, turning around to face Thexia. She realized the others had gone a bit ahead. Thexia shook her head and waved a hand dismissively, catching up with the others without saying anything. 

Try as she might to focus on the mission at hand, Quinn couldn’t escape her thoughts. She glanced about the room, searching for him, admittedly, but took the opportunity to examine her surroundings. She saw Imperial troops, officers and members of varying ranks. They socialized as though they attended a party, not the chambers of Empress Acina. 

Their escort brought them before the grand doors of the throne room, stopping to talk to a guard. After they exchanged words, the escort informed them that the Empress was not yet ready for their arrival. They’d need to wait a few moments before they could be seen. Lana nodded understandingly whilst Theron gave a small huff. 

“Please, make yourselves comfortable. You are our honored guests,” their escort said with a polite bow of his head. Altrethir tugged on Theron’s sleeve, beckoning for him to follow. While the men headed in their own direction, Lana and Thexia stepped aside. 

“I’m going to look for my husband,” Thexia said in a hushed tone. 

Lana blinked. “Commander- I don’t believe now would be the best time.” 

“I may not get another opportunity; I’m taking it now.” 

“We are on a critical mission of diplomacy-” 

“This won’t take long.” 

“-We need you here with _us_.” 

“Then if worse comes to worst, Lord Valran can handle it.” 

“ _Commander_.” 

Thexia pursed her lips in frustration, but Lana continued; “I understand that you desperately want to find him, but this meeting is too important to put at risk.” 

“Then contact me when we’ve been summoned.” Thexia turned on her heel, her cape twirling with a flare as she briskly walked away, using the Force to guide her. Lana let out an aggravated sigh, shaking her head. _Damn her stubbornness._

The Force didn’t take Thexia far. She was a decent distance from Lana, but still within her line of sight. Turning the corner that brought her into a lounge, her senses peaked. 

Clad in the dark grays of that of a major’s uniform, Quinn turned on his heel to meet whomever came to visit him. He first caught sight of the attire, then the lightsaber, and the woman’s complexion. Immediately, the man dropped his head in a bow, placing a hand over his chest, “Apologies, my lord. I was just leaving.” 

“Malavai,” Thexia could barely hear her own voice over the deafening beat of her heart.

Quinn slowly brought his head back up – her voice brought a flood of emotions upon him, and she felt every one of them. 

But he’d hardly recognized her, even with a more careful look. Quinn gulped dryly, his legs threatened to wobble, and so he quickly reached out to the nearby table for support. He felt tears begin to well up but blinked and tried to desperately push them aside. The reality of his situation was _overwhelming._

Thexia approached with hesitation, extending an arm toward him to beckon him into an embrace. Quinn’s training didn’t prepare him for this; but, thankfully, the setting met his ideal standards of being private. So, he pushed himself from the table and rushed to her, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck in a single movement. 

Thexia held him firmly – she clung to him – and feared that if she let go, she’d be separated from him once more. Her gloved fingers smoothed down his raven locks of hair. And the fingers of her other hand dug into the back of his uniform, grasping taught and never wanting to release him. 

Then she felt tears stinging her own eyes. She breathed slowly, attempting to be away with her tears.

After a long moment, they finally pulled away enough to look one another face-to-face. She noted how his features differed; he sported some new wrinkles, though subtle, and darkened circles underlined his eyes. His hair had been graced with lighter silver strands. The stubble on his jaw and chin was one thing that remained the same, and Thexia grinned as she came to that realization. 

“I cannot express how greatly I’ve missed you,” she whispered, caressing the man’s cheek. 

“I regret to say that I’m at a loss for words,” Quinn replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. 

“Words are overrated,” she brushed her gloved thumb across his bottom lip. 

“My lord, you still-…?” 

“Yes. I do,” Thexia murmured, trying to keep her voice steady. “I loved you then, I love you now. Every day I’ve spent working with the Alliance has been toward two goals: stopping Arcann, and finding you.” She brought her other hand up to gently hold his cheek. 

Then, a rare smile crept onto his features, tender and genuine enough to reach his eyes. And he gently took hold of one of her arms, “I love you, too, Thexia.” 

How long had it been since her name spilled from his lips? It felt nearly foreign to him; but to her, that was the best thing he could have said. Smiling ear-to-ear, the Sith pulled his face down, closer, until her lips brushed against his-. 

“Commander.” 

She paused, tensing and slowly peeking over Quinn’s shoulder to look toward the doorframe. The man gingerly removed himself from her embrace and stood straight, facing the intruder with a semi-flushed complexion. 

“Empress Acina is ready to meet us,” Lana said. Thexia gave her a curt nod and she headed back toward the throne room, leaving the Wrath and her husband in privacy again. 

“You shouldn’t keep her waiting,” Quinn said quietly, “and I will actually be attending that meeting with you.” 

Thexia quirked a brow, “Is that so?” 

“Yes- there is much to catch you up on; but for now, we serve our duty.” 

* * *

The ambassadors of the Alliance entered the grand throne room. Atop the throne on the far back wall sat the Empress, holding herself in a regal composure. Lana, Thexia and Altrethir bowed respectfully, Theron was more hesitant to follow suit. Quinn had taken a place at the foot of the stairs of the throne while a secondary advisor stood on the other side. The Empress uncrossed her leg and stood, slowly making her way down the steps with a small smile upon her lips. She extended her arms out to either side of her, greeting her guests, “It is an honor, Commanders.” 

“Your Highness,” Altrethir said, “we are grateful that you reached out to us.” 

“And I am grateful you agreed to a meeting in person, Darth Nox. I hope you have had a pleasant welcome back to your home.” 

“It has sufficed.” 

The Empress flashed him a small smirk, her scarlet eyes shifting toward Thexia. “The Emperor’s Wrath. Your strength was admired by many, and feared by more,” her gaze shifted, eyeing the advisor that Thexia didn’t recognize. Her eyes snapped back to her in an instant. “I would love nothing more than for you and Nox to join me in my personal shuttle; we may speak freely, by ourselves, without the influence of others.” 

Theron shifted in place, folded his arms over his chest and side-eyed Altrethir. The offer didn’t particularly sit right with Lana, either. 

“Your advisors are welcome to stay and enjoy the banquet; they are our guests as much as you are. We shall return in an hour, no longer.” 

“I will join you,” Altrethir said, sensing Theron’s uneasiness. “If we are to meet an eventual agreement, my advisors shall be treated with the utmost respect.” 

“Of course, Nox.” 

Thexia wasn’t so eager to leave. She was genuinely hoping they’d talk things out here in the throne room; she didn’t want to be separated from Quinn again. 

Yet something felt off. 

“Wrath? You are as much of a commander as Nox is in your Alliance. Will you be joining, or do you trust in his judgement?” Empress Acina inquired. There was a pause as Thexia looked to Quinn. It was a brief glance, but he gave her a subtle nod, his expression neutral. 

“I will go with you; I wish to hear the conversation with my own ears.” 

“Marvelous! Come along, I will alert my crew to prepare my shuttle.” 

The Empress and the commanders left the throne room. Lana turned to Theron, lofting a brow as she saw him staring down the other advisor. Then, he sauntered closer, “Thought I recognized you. Didn’t think you’d have much of a career left after that incident with the _Ascendant Spear,_ Moff Loreman.” 

“It’s _Minister_ Loreman now,” the Imperial man spoke in a haughty tone. Lana pursed her lips thoughtfully; she recognized Loreman from a handful of places. From the “incident” involving the prototype ship, the _Ascendant Spear,_ and also notably for being one of the prime individuals who wished for the Emperor’s Wrath to stay missing. She thought further; he may have even been the one who was responsible for Thexia’s husband being thrown in prison. 

“Pardon me, my lord,” Quinn’s voice sounded beside Lana. She turned, greeting him with a small nod. 

“Yes, Major?” 

“While our own intel has given me much insight to your Alliance, I wanted to learn more from those directly involved with it. If you’ve the time, I would be honored if you would tell me about your Alliance in greater detail.” 

Lana glanced briefly to Theron before looking back to Quinn, “Certainly. Perhaps this conversation would be best over tea, and _not_ with my companion bickering in the background.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took twenty-something chapters for Quinn to finally return!! Thank you for reading :D Follow me on tumblr @blueburds and @kitblueburdart


	24. Commanders in Peril

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thexia and Altrethir head off with Empress Acina to discuss the future for the Alliance and the Sith Empire. Meanwhile, their advisors remain at the palace - and try to keep themselves out of trouble.

“. . . And shortly after, she accepted the position of ‘commander’ alongside Lord Valran,” Lana set down her drink. “They lead the Alliance as equals.” 

“I must say,” Major Quinn said, “I’m a bit surprised to know that Lord Thexia is co-leading your entire operation.” He, too, set down his drink; “That is to say that I don’t particularly see her creating elaborate schemes or hatching plans with a group of soldiers.” 

“She typically doesn’t,” Lana said. “Lord Valran has a more tactical mind, and Thexia leads our forces into battle. She’s quite the role-model, especially for young Sith. I would say that he is the brains and she is the brawn, but that would be an understatement for their capabilities. They’re both immensely strong – and intelligent – in their respective manner.” 

“Then it would be an even greater honor to serve beneath them,” Quinn said. 

Lana gave a small smile before shifting her gaze to Theron, who was silently sitting in the luxurious chair beside her. He was visibly tense, she noted, and looked as though he’d rather be literally anywhere else. And she couldn’t blame him, in all honesty. 

She leaned over just a bit, “Theron, enough pouting.” 

“I’m not _pouting_ ,” the agent muttered, sitting up straight. “I’m worried. I can’t believe you’re not.” 

She tossed a glance to the other man, “Pardon us for a moment, Major.” 

Quinn nodded respectfully as Lana stood, beckoning for Theron to follow her into the neighboring room. 

“I want to trust the Empress,” she said, keeping her voice relatively low, “but I understand your concern. Believe me, I do.” 

“You don’t look the least bit worried.” 

“On the surface, I’m not. But I believe that the commanders can handle anything Acina would potentially throw at them. If they can go toe-to-toe with Arcann, what chance does she have?” 

Lana had a point, and her reasonings quelled his anxieties all for a bit. Still, he had that feeling in the back of his mind; the feeling like something was going to go wrong. Or, had _already_ gone wrong. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

Theron turned and leaned against the wall, clicking on his communication device to try and reach out to the commanders. 

Thunder cracked outside. And he felt another churn in his gut, his brow furrowing with frustration. 

“What’s happened?” Lana said. 

“I can’t reach them. There’s interference with their comms; they’ve been jammed.” 

Lana pursed her lips. She glanced out into the other room but deemed nothing as suspicious. Not from a brief glance, anyway. But walking past Quinn and toward Theron and Lana was Acina’s other advisor: Lorman. 

“My lord, agent,” the man greeted. “I’m afraid I’ve received some terrible news.” 

Major Quinn had made his way over, narrowing his eyes at Lorman. Lana had sensed rivalry between the two earlier during the meeting with the Empress – but now? Quinn’s glare could cut durasteel. 

“Empress Acina’s shuttle has crashed. The emergency beacon is not transmitting, which means the shuttle has either exploded or disintegrated altogether.” 

Theron’s eyes widened in horror and Lana’s mouth fell agape. Quinn practically felt his heart stop for a moment but was quick to regain his composure, “Have the bodies been located?” 

“No,” Lorman frowned, “Their corpses – or what remains of them – are likely nothing more than severed pieces of their bodies.” 

“Then a search team should be dispatched immediately,” Quinn hastily continued. “They are _missing_ , not dead.” 

“A search party is already on the way.” Lorman looked to Theron and Lana, “Stay until we have this all sorted out.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving,” Theron managed to say, jaw clenched. 

“You’re certain they’re still alive?” 

“I am, Major,” Lana said. “I cannot say if the Empress is for certain, but the commanders certainly are. I felt no disturbances in the Force; they may be injured from the crash, but they’re alive.” 

Quinn managed a small huff of relief. He should have known – and he should have looked to _her_ when Lorman gave the news. She could’ve indicated to him that he was lying and he didn’t even notice. 

“The Minister is up to something,” Quinn said, “but what, I’m not sure. He’s too incompetent to plot such a bold assassination attempt on the Empress.” 

“Then he’s got help,” Theron suggested, shooting the major a suspecting look. 

“Very likely.” 

Lana’s comm beeped. She clicked it on, a holo image of Ashara appearing. “I couldn’t reach Lord Valran, so I needed to reach one of you.” 

“What is it, Ashara?” Lana said. 

“Saresh. She contacted us and she’s on her way here.” 

“She hears that the Alliance may be working alongside the Empire, then she suddenly decides to head to Odessen?” 

“Keep us updated and have eyes on her if she gets there before we do,” Theron said. “We’ll head back as soon as we can.” 

“I’m on it,” Ashara said, then ended the call. 

Lana pocketed her device and pursed her lips. She had an ever-sneaking suspicion that Saresh was involved with whatever was happening here on Dromund Kaas, but with lacking evidence, she couldn’t prove anything. She looked to Theron and then to Quinn, who had a slight frown upon his lips. Or, perhaps that was simply how he normally looked. 

Lana had little reason to not trust Major Quinn, but until more clues were brought to light, he was as much of a suspect as Lorman. 

Quinn moved further into the room, accessing the Imperial computer system, and began to browse the files. But the process was taking too long; they’d be here for hours if all they did was dig through intel. 

“I’m going out to find them,” Theron pushed himself past Lana, but she caught his shoulder. 

“You run the risk of being struck down by lightning; there’s no telling when this storm will let up.” 

“When have I ever let a little danger stop me?” 

“We may be able to reach them despite the storm,” Quinn said. “We have shuttles with anti-storm shielding.” 

“No offense, Major, but we haven’t exactly been given a reason to trust you,” Theron said. 

Quinn hesitated, his eyes flicking to Lana – who observed his behavior keenly. He could tell that she'd be listening to his phrasing very carefully. And then he looked back to Theron, “I owe my life to Lord Thexia. I owe her more than that, but my loyalties are forever to her." He paused, debating with himself if he should really just be blunt and say it. But perhaps the direct approach was what was needed in this situation. "I love her, agent.” 

Theron’s expression softened. And he-… understood. Damn it, he understood. 

“I’d give anything to bring her back safely,” Quinn continued. “And right now, we know exactly what we need to do.” 

“All right,” Theron muttered, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Let’s go.” 

Lana led the two men toward the entrance of the room and- hesitated as they reached the door. She felt a presence on the other side. But before she could reach her lightsaber, the door opened with a sudden hiss. 

Imperial troops greeted them with pointed blasters. “We were warned that you might try to sneak off,” one of them said. 

“Put down your weapons and allow us passage immediately,” Quinn snapped. 

“Afraid we can’t do that, sir. We’ve got our orders.” 

“And I’m giving you new ones. Put your weapons down and let us pass.” 

Theron counted the troops, peering around their shoulders as they conversed with the major. Four. Four in total. He exchanged a look with Lana, who in turn narrowed her eyes at him. He fought off a smirk. 

Theron raised his arms above his head in surrender, Lana hesitantly following suit. Two troops entered and nudged them through, starting to lead them into a new location. 

“You have a _lot_ of explaining to do,” Quinn hissed. 

“Orders are to relocate the prisoners if they tried to leave,” a troop said. 

“They are not prisoners; they are ambassadors of the Alliance and our guests. They’ve violated no Imperial laws during their stay, we’ve no reason to keep them in custody.” 

The troops looked to each other, blasters still in-hand but clutched to their chests, rather than pointed at the major. One looked back to him, “They told us you might try to interfere.” 

The tone in the troop’s voice sent a cold chill down Quinn’s spine. He stepped back- and stumbled further back as one of the soldiers fired their blaster at him. 

He dodged another shot and pulled his own blaster from his holster, then he flipped the switch to turn on his stun setting and fired twice. That was all he needed. 

The troops cried out as they were paralyzed before collapsing to the ground. He stepped over their bodies and glanced left and right, trying to see where Theron and Lana had gone, but they’d either turned a corner or entered one of the nearby rooms. He couldn’t tell. 

But he didn’t necessarily need them to locate Thexia, did he? 

Quinn glanced to the bodies of the troops, chewing the inside of his cheek in contemplation.

So their suspicions had been confirmed; Lorman was indeed behind all of this. Well, partially at the very least. The troops that captured Theron and Lana casually let the minister’s name slip out every so often – and the two were absolutely listening for any additional information. 

The troops made mention of the GenoHaraden, a sabotage on Acina’s ship, and- 

_Saresh._

Now things were beginning to line up. 

Theron glanced to Lana, who was currently meditating. And he looked back to the troops, watching and waiting for an opening. He drummed his fingers casually on his arm, leaning back in his seat with his legs crossed. 

One of the soldier’s holocommunicator devices beeped. 

They clicked it on and a holo image of Lorman appeared above the floating device. “Let me speak with the prisoners,” he said. 

As the troop turned, Lana suddenly flung her arm forward to Force-choke them. And they clutched at their neck, struggling for breath before keeling over. The other soldiers took notice and rushed into action, but Theron was quick with his blaster. 

Still seated, he fired at them as they were focused on Lana. He hit his marks, standing to watch the door. Lana leaned in to look into the device’s camera, “Hello again, Lorman.” 

Theron grinned in amusement. 

“Lana-?” Thexia’s voice sounded from the other side of the comm. 

“Commander,” Lana breathed, “thank goodness you’re all right. Where is Lord Valran? And the Empress?” 

“Both present. Sounds like we both ran into a bit of trouble.” 

“It does, but nothing too extreme.” 

The doors slid open and Theron immediately aimed his blaster toward whoever invaded the room. 

Major Quinn rushed in, his own blaster drawn, and he and Theron stared at each other for a moment. As he took a look around the room, seeing the Imperial soldiers who’d been killed, Quinn slowly lowered his weapon. 

“Commanders,” Theron said, “we’ve got a bit of a situation on our hands. Saresh is-” 

“Planning to take over the Alliance,” Altrethir said. “Yes; we’ve found hard evidence of her plans in our absence. And we’ve collected it all.” 

“That’s all well and good, but she’s already on her way to Odessen.” 

Altrethir hummed in thought. “Unexpected for her to act so soon, but this will not set us back. We’ll have our coordinates transmitted momentarily.” 

“Understood.” 

Quinn moved into the room, appearing beside Lana on the holo device. And he felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw Thexia’s image, “My lord, I- I'm so grateful that you’re alive. This treachery will not be taken lightly, I promise you.” 

“If I may, Commander,” Lana spoke up, “Major Quinn informed me of something I believe you may find useful, given our current predicament.” 

Thexia cocked a brow, her curiosity piqued. 

“As it just so happens, Lorman is directly responsible for Major Quinn’s imprisonment.” Lana folded her arms over her chest, head canting slightly to the side. “And I’ll leave you with that.” 

Thexia’s eyes widened, her gaze snapping to the minister who stood beside her. He frantically looked between the two Sith, raising his hands in defense. 

This would be a kill that would satisfy her for now. A kill that would mean something to her, to her husband, and as a message to the enemies of the Alliance. A kill that she would savor. 

Altrethir folded his hands behind his back and Empress Acina gave her a knowing nod.

In half a second, Lorman flew across the room and slammed hard against the wall of the cavern. Thexia’s fingers grasped at invisible air as the sounds of bones cracking and popping echoed throughout the chamber. The minister’s cries of pain were strained as his windpipe was simultaneously being crushed. 

It was as if Thexia used the Force to crush his body – slowly – from every angle. 

She ignited one of her sabers and yanked her other arm forward, pulling Lorman forward onto her blade. His mangled body fell limp. 

“Marvelously done, Commander,” Acina praised. 

Quinn fought back a satisfactory grin; he had to maintain his professionalism, even if he was thrilled that the scheming minister was finally dead. Even if he didn’t strike the blow himself, he was content with the way things turned out. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone else besides Thexia to end Lorman’s miserable life. 

“Major Quinn, I take it you’re competent enough to secure a shuttle to pick us up?” 

“I will see to it immediately, Empress,” Quinn replied. 

“Good. We shall await your arrival.” 

* * *

There was quite the commotion when the commanders arrived back to Odessen. They exited their shuttle, Thexia walking with more haste than Altrethir – and more angrily. Within the Military Hanger, a medium-sized crowd had gathered. And upon the platform that oversaw the hangar was Saresh. 

Murmurs and whispers sounded throughout the crowd as the former Republic chancellor gave her speech; “Your commanders may have perished, but your battle for freedom will continue. By my leadership, we will see Vaylin dead.” 

Thexia practically shoved her way through the crowd up into the front row. 

And Saresh’s eyes widened. 

She abruptly turned to flee off the makeshift stage- but Altrethir awaited her at one end, while Theron and Lana trapped her in the other. She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists, “I assume you know everything, then.” 

Altrethir’s eyes darkened; he felt a significant amount of rage boiling inside him - frustration, annoyance and irritation for everything that'd happened. He flung his arm forward, forcing Saresh to fall to her knees, and held her with an unrelenting Force-grip that constricted around her. “ _Confess_.” 

The dark tone of his voice made her skin crawl. She didn’t protest. “Yes. It was my plan to see the commanders and the Empress dead. I couldn’t let an opportunity like that pass me up; your Alliance needs better leaders. _One_ leader. One who isn’t corrupt by the Dark Side just like their enemy.” 

Altrethir sneered, tightening his grip on the former chancellor. She grunted in pain; “Finish it already.” 

The Sith held his grasp still as Thexia climbed atop the platform, igniting her lightsabers. But Altrethir held out his other hand, gesturing for her to wait. “You will be imprisoned for your crimes against the Alliance.” 

“What-?” Thexia and Saresh both said in unison. 

“She will undergo interrogation,” Altrethir murmured to the other commander. “And when the time comes, we may execute her.” 

Thexia glanced between him and Saresh, lips curled into a sneer. 

“Fine.” She beckoned Alliance troops over, “Take her away – do not let her escape.” 

The soldiers snatched Saresh up and hauled her off the platform and Altrethir gave a nod of approval to Thexia. Theron stuffed his blaster into his holster as Lana sheathed her lightsaber and they walked over to the commanders. 

“Back to your duties, all of you!” Thexia called out to the crowd – of whom immediately went about their business. 

“I’ve gotta say,” Theron said, “this was a pretty satisfying end to an otherwise crazy day.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I post swtor shenanigans & writing stuffs to my tumblr, @blueburds, and swtor art at @kitblueburdart!


	25. Reunion, Promises, and a Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the bold attempt on the Commanders’ lives, things kick back into swing at the Alliance base. With a moment to themselves, Thexia and Malavai have a few important matters to discuss. But their time together is brief; they are called back to base to discuss a new scheme to stop Vaylin.

Saresh’s schemes had been thwarted, the Alliance formed a partnership with the Sith Empire, and new opportunities to defeat Vaylin surfaced every day. 

They were coming close; to think that it’d all be over soon was almost mind-blowing. 

By the grace of Empress Acina herself, and after some convincing, Major Quinn had been stationed on Odessen to directly assist the Alliance. And while both he and Thexia were more than relieved to finally be together again, they knew they still had duties to uphold. Their work often came before spending quality time with one another. 

Such was an evening where they’d completed their tasks for the day; they both had some free time. Thexia’s starship took them just twenty minutes out--away from the base, but still close enough to be back in time if there was an emergency. 

They landed and exited upon a grassy field, and a short walk would take them closer toward the shore of the beach. The sand white as snow, the gentle waves brushed the shore gracefully, and a sparkling curtain of stars hung within the horizon. Odessen’s moon provided just enough natural light; they’d little need for anything else. 

Though their armor had been left in the starship, the two still took their weapons with them. Thexia smirked to her husband as they walked, vaguely recalling what he had even looked like in casual attire. 

Shoes had been abandoned as well; neither felt like dealing with sand to wash out of them. The topics of conversation had varied between small-talk and more intriguing subjects on their way here; but after a small pause of silence swept over them, Thexia spoke. 

“It’s an odd feeling, being away from it all.” 

“I concur,” Malavai replied. “Forgive me, but I cannot shake the feeling that something will happen while we're away.” 

“They can manage just fine without our guidance for _one_ hour.” 

“I’m sure you’re right, but even so...” 

Thexia looped one of her arms around his, tugging him along as they continued their walk. “I do hope this alliance with the Empire lasts,” she said, guiding the topic down a bit of a different route.

“That is the direction in which you see the Alliance heading?” Malavai asked. 

“It is.” A pause, then a huff. “Lord Valran would have to put in his say, but I’m sure of where I stand on the matter.” 

“Certainly he’d want the same? He has loyalty to the Empire as well.” 

“It isn’t _his_ loyalty that makes me second-guess his allegiance,” she muttered. “Enough talk about that. We came out here to get away from everything back at base.” 

“We did. I apologize.” 

Thexia hummed lowly in thought. “Make it up to me, then.” 

Malavai lofted a brow and peered down to her, “How so?” 

She tapped her lips twice. 

And he understood. They stopped and Thexia took his hands in hers. When he didn’t lean in to kiss her right away, she lightly canted her head to the side. “You’re nervous.” 

“Forgive me--this... I suppose I’m taking in the moment.” 

How her heart fluttered in her chest upon seeing such a soft look on his face – in his eyes, especially. They’d been robbed of their kiss upon Dromund Kaas. It was, frankly, insane that they had to fly out all this way just to have some privacy. 

Thexia gingerly thumbed his cheek, offering a small smile of her own. “When you’re ready, then.” 

He didn’t waste any more time. 

The man leaned down and pressed his lips to hers and they savored the kiss. Thexia reached out to him with the Force and felt every one of his emotions. Every feeling that he always kept so guarded, shielded from others--he opened them up to her. 

She cupped his face with both hands, testing the waters. Cautiously, slowly. Which was rather unlike her, but it was out of respect for him that she chose to take things slow, despite how terribly she craved more. 

Thexia felt his hands press onto her hips, so she took that as a sign to continue. 

She deepened their kiss until they both panted and gasped for breath--and it was a miracle that they didn’t stumble over. She smiled earnestly against his lips and he’d mirror her grin, then they broke away just enough to look one another in the eye. 

“I love you, Thexia.” 

“I love you, too, Malavai,” Thexia whispered and stole one more chaste kiss. 

They straightened their postures and she trailed her hands down his chest, but she felt something gnawing at her conscious. There was a matter that she wanted to address, something she’d wanted to clear up ever since her conversation with Pierce on Zakuul. 

Was now an appropriate time? Was _any_ , to that matter? 

“There’s... something that I want to ask about,” Thexia said, keeping her expression neutral. She idly fingered the fabric of his shirt as she spoke, “I know we’ve long since put this behind us, but after all these years, I want to know.” 

Malavai’s brow had furrowed, his own smile dropped to be replaced with a thoughtful expression. 

Thexia continued; “The transponder vessel. It was all a ruse, wasn’t it? And not only what you told me on the surface, but even more than that. You never planned to kill me for Baras.” 

She could feel his heart beat faster beneath her palms. Yes, she dreaded bringing the incident up, but Thexia felt as though she had a right to know at this point. 

He spoke after a moment’s pause. “Everything was staged; I never planned to kill you, no.” 

Thexia felt her breath catch in her throat. All right, that cleared _some_ things up, but she had more questions. “So you were on my side throughout it all? You risked so much--you could have-…" 

“I could have died. I know. And I fully expected to.” He paused briefly. “That was the original plan. Baras caught on to your behavior toward me, and he _did_ order me to kill you, that much is true.” 

“If you didn’t want to side with him, then that only left you two options.” 

“Death by your hand. That was the only option I saw; I didn’t expect to receive your mercy.” 

“I don’t blame you for thinking that way,” Thexia muttered, stepping back to give him a bit of space. “You would have given your life because you didn’t want to support Baras.” 

“I may owe my career to him, but that doesn’t mean that I agreed with everything he did. I saw an alternative–-a hope for the Empire--in you. If my death meant a brighter future for the Empire, then for _that_ , I would have given my life.” 

All the pieces fell into place. Baras had known of her love for Malavai, then deliberately used him try and betray her. To which, he did--but her captain’s loyalty had shifted. Malavai would come up with a plan that he knew wouldn’t work and wrote himself a script to stick to. 

The room in which everything transpired probably had cameras of some sort; perhaps he’d broadcasted the incident to Baras himself. She didn’t know that for certain, but it wasn’t unlikely. 

Enraged by the betrayal, she’d kill Malavai, ultimately eliminating her only weakness that Baras knew of. 

Thexia’s heart sank as she realized that, if she did kill him upon the vessel, she wouldn’t have known that everything was faked. _All_ of it. 

“I wish you would have told me,” she muttered, feeling a slight knot in her throat. 

“We both know that could have compromised everything.” 

“It may not have.” 

“Then I am sorry, Thexia. I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark.” 

She exhaled a slow sigh. At least the truth was out now, and she felt some relief in knowing that Malavai never planned her death in the first place. 

“That’s enough about that,” she muttered. “I want to pick up where we left off a few moments ago.” 

The faintest of a smirk found Malavai’s lips as he nodded in agreement. 

Thexia reached for his face again, tugging him down to meet her lips. And seconds later, her comm beeped. She huffed and debated throwing it into the water but she refrained from doing so. “What is it?” she asked into the device. 

“Lord Valran has called for a meeting. Return to base as soon as you can,” Lana’s voice said through the speaker. 

Thexia frowned and withheld a sigh. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes or so.” 

“I will let him know,” Lana said and then ended the call. 

Thexia turned on her heel and took Malavai’s hand, leading him back to the ship. “We can continue on the ship.” 

The man lofted a brow as he followed behind, a hint of a smirk gracing his features. “Of course, my lord.” 

* * *

After all the chaos upon Iokath settled, it seemed only fitting that the Alliance would dive head-first into new excitement. An opportunity to strike at Vaylin had emerged. 

The Eternal Empress was planning to throw a grand event-–an event specifically for executing rebels she deemed as traitors. But those who rebelled against her were _also_ potential Alliance recruits. 

The Commanders and their advisors had gathered around the holotable as their meeting began just minutes ago.

“Indo’s clean,” Theron said, “and we may not get another chance like this if we don’t take it.” 

“There’s a slight problem in all of this,” said Thexia. “Vaylin can detect my presence as well as Lord Valran’s. We can’t get anywhere close to her.” 

“We will send in our own agents to infiltrate the party to set the detonators,” said Altrethir. 

Theron nodded, “All right, so myself and...?” 

“Actually, Agent Shan, I’ve already two specific individuals in mind,” Altrethir said and pulled up holo images. “Thexia recruited these two some time ago. They’ve sworn loyalty, passed clearance, and know Zakuul well. They would be quite fitting for the job.” 

“I’m not sure if I want this job trusted to Alamor,” Thexia said, narrowing her eyes at the holo-images of her relative. “His methods have been questionable in the past.” 

“We would be at an advantage regardless if he fumbles or not. He is a competent spy, looking back in his files. Both he and Vector Hyllus shall bear disguises as Knights of Zakuul, slip into the party undetected, and grant us the access we require.” 

“I should go with them, just in case,” Theron said. 

“Knights of Zakuul either travel in pairs or in small groups--but groups that are more than three. You would draw suspicion by accompanying them, I’m afraid.” Altrethir looked to Thexia, “Do I have your approval? We must make a decision soon.” 

Thexia shifted. No, the idea didn’t sit well with her. She recalled what transpired on Zakuul months ago, how Alamor essentially used her to secure a kill. He should have just left her out of his own personal vendettas. 

Still, she could see Altrethir’s reasonings. She gave a small huff and a half-hearted shrug, “Fine. But we will monitor every step he takes.” 

“That is the plan,” said Altrethir. “Contact Agent Alamor and Vector Hyllus immediately, Agent Shan. If there are no further inquiries, this meeting is dismissed.” 

Thexia left, Major Quinn and Lana following behind her. Theron moved to a nearby computer to reach out to their distant allies and Altrethir turned to his other advisor; “Check in with the hangar, Ashara. Make sure we’ve three shuttles prepped and ready to go.” 

Ashara nodded and took her leave. 

And Altrethir’s gaze lingered upon Theron. They both had their duties to serve, but certainly he could afford just a brief moment to give him? 

He heard Theron typing away as he wrote the message. But when he paused, Altrethir moved to stand beside him. Theron tossed him a glance, “What do you think?” 

Altrethir read the message to himself and then gave his feedback. 

“Formal, straight to the point. Direct. All information is relevant. Excellent--encrypt it and send it.” 

Theron did just that and it was delivered in seconds. He huffed a small sigh and turned, meeting the Sith’s eyes. “This could be it, huh? If everything goes to plan, or if it _doesn’t_ but we improvise just right, we could finally overthrow Vaylin.” 

“As much as I would love for this all to be over, there would still be much more to go.” 

“Valkorion.” 

“Yes,” Altrethir muttered, his gaze falling to the floor below. “Arcann is the key to destroying him. I know he is. But Thexia’s stubbornness and pride won’t allow her to understand that.” 

Theron gave a small shrug, “I’m not entirely sure what to tell you, in all honesty. You understand Sith better than me. Could it be that she doesn’t trust your judgement?” 

“Oh, she certainly doesn’t,” Altrethir said without missing a beat. “Perhaps if Valkorion wasn’t in our minds, I’d seek revenge on Arcann, too. But we need him.” 

Theron nodded understandingly. “Senya still thinks that he’s changed. Hell, she seems to have convinced herself. But you actually talked to him up close--did you sense anything?” 

Altrethir paused and thought. Truthfully? It was difficult to tell for certain. But he recalled the pale blue of Arcann’s eyes, how they’d shifted into the soft shade from the stark orange. It was as if the Dark Side of the Force had left his being. And he recalled his emotions: Fearful, conflicted, anxious. Like a cornered animal who knew nothing but abuse its whole life. 

Then Altrethir felt the slightest of a stir in his heart.

 _Pity?_ He felt _pity_ for the man who stole five years of his life? Who slaughtered millions of innocents? 

The Sith narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing as he scowled. “I did.” 

Theron tipped his head to the side a bit, “Okay, is that a good thing? Bad thing?” 

“Good in the sense that we could potentially have a genuine ally. Bad in the sense that we could potentially have a _genuine ally_.” 

“You mean-...” 

“I need more information before I present any ideas.” Altrethir said, turning on his heel to briskly walk away--but he stopped. He walked back over to Theron and pulled him in for a quick, chaste kiss. “I’m going to speak with Senya. Wish me luck.” 

Theron’s flustered expression lasted all but a moment before a smirk found its way onto his features. He leaned up and stole another kiss, giving Altrethir’s arm a small squeeze, “Good luck, Commander.” 

* * *

Altrethir hadn’t visited the prison chambers in some time; he saw that Senya’s vitals were stabilized and checked on her via security monitors on occasion. But he’d not visited her in-person in some number of weeks. 

He knew she wasn’t particularly happy with him--and he wouldn’t blame her for feeling that way. Still, she’d brought this upon herself. Deceiving him and the Alliance would only get her so far, and now she paid the price for her choices. 

Altrethir passed the guards at the door and entered, his hands folded behind his back as he kept a neutral expression and guarded his emotions. 

His scarlet gaze met her icy stare as he approached. 

“What do you want?” she said, a faint strain in her voice. 

“Conversation,” Altrethir said, deactivating the shield to step into the cell, “and answers.” 

“I don’t know where Arcann is. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” 

“You misunderstand.” Altrethir leaned down to sit atop his knees, meeting her level. He folded his hands on his lap and softened his expression; “Arcann is not our priority threat. He may not even be a threat at all.” 

Senya furrowed her brow in suspicion and Altrethir continued. 

“I sensed his change; I saw it within his eyes. And I’ve thought hard about what course of action the Alliance should take if what I believe is true.” He paused. “It has been... difficult to put aside my own personal desire for revenge, but I know that Arcann is who we need in order to ultimately defeat Valkorion.” 

Senya pursed her lips as he spoke but then let out a small huff, “So you’ll imprison and use him? Enslave him for interrogation just like you’ve done to me?” 

“The Alliance must do what is necessary. But, if he chooses to cooperate and if he lays out all of his cards, then there would be no need for hostility. Cooperation will benefit us all.” 

“And after he’s fulfilled his role?” 

Altrethir shifted, pausing to think for a moment. “We shall see.” 

The Sith reached out with the Force, just enough to touch her emotions. He could feel her confliction, her love for her son, and the desire to do what was best for Zakuul. A noble goal, if not perhaps a bit selfish, but he couldn’t judge. 

“Neither Arcann nor the Alliance will be immediately willing to trust one another; we need you as a bridge to connect the two rifts of distrust.” 

Altrethir stood and adjusted his cloak, taking a few backward steps out of the cell before activating the shield again. “You will have time to think this over, but there is a chance that we will need an immediate decision. I will check back in a day’s time.” 

He turned and left, feeling Senya’s eyes upon him until he was out of her sight. 

* * *

“We’ve made it inside,” Alamor’s voice called from the communication device. “Heading into the lower levels; might lose the signal for the moment.” 

Thexia folded her arms over her chest. That was _suspicious_. 

“Make haste,” said Altrethir. 

The comm clicked off and Altrethir moved toward Theron, observing the screen of the terminal the agent was working with. Thexia made her way into the cockpit and stood stiffly behind Lana. 

No, she didn’t like lying in wait. Yes, she’d rather be in there herself-–but she knew that the second she laid foot in the palace, Vaylin would sense her presence. 

Or, perhaps more accurately, her father’s. 

After a number of minutes that lasted much too long, Alamor hailed their shuttle again; “Charges are in place, security has successfully been sliced. Awaiting your orders.” 

“Contact us when Vaylin is about to make her speech,” Altrethir said. 

“Acknowledged.” 

Thexia tightened one of the straps of her gauntlet and flexed her fingers. So, they’d make a big entrance during Vaylin’s time in the spotlight, free the rebels, and stop her. A sound plan – one that was almost too straight-forward for Altrethir’s tastes. 

She could practically hear his voice in her head, haughty attitude and all: _Sometimes, war calls for a change of tactics._

Yes--the tactics that _he_ created, not her. 

For being a co-commander, she certainly didn’t feel the role sometimes. 

But Thexia was assertive; she wasn’t shy about expressing her distaste in plans, and she did put in her own ideas. Yet they were often overlooked. Or, perhaps more precisely, Altrethir’s plans were sounder. Safer. 

A typical person would tell themself that everyone has their own strengths; for Altrethir, his was his mind: His methods of logical, strategical thinking. But Thexia merely felt her position threatened. 

Her victories over the Star Fortresses were marvelous, yes, but they paled in comparison to what Altrethir had accomplished. 

Her orange eyes shifted to look at the other Sith. 

He stood calmly, his hands upon his hips as he watched Theron work. And then he suddenly looked to her. 

Thexia turned her attention elsewhere, but frustration still swelled in her chest. Perhaps he sensed it. 

The comm beeped and Alamor’s voice called from the speaker once more; “She’s starting.” 

“Continue to play your roles and we will be down shortly. Do not set off the charges yet.” Altrethir clicked the comm off and called to Lana, “Bring us onto the landing pad. It’s time.” 

The speech was successfully crashed. Altrethir gave the command to set off the power charges Alamor and Vector had put in place, ultimately creating chaos in the palace. While the nobles ran in fear, Theron directed the rebels up and onto the landing platform where the shuttle awaited them. 

But Vaylin tried to flee, too. 

At first, splitting up to locate her sounded like a good idea, but Altrethir quickly recalled what happened last time he faced one of Valkorion’s children alone. Perhaps it was more ideal to take Vaylin on together. 

“Try to find any remaining rebels and get them out of here,” Altrethir told Alamor. The man nodded, took his companion and rushed off. Altrethir turned to Thexia, “There are only two ways she could have fled: Back down to the foyer, or out into the gardens--which would eventually lead into her own landing zone.” 

“Then the latter is our safer option?” 

“Yes. I know you sensed her fear; she is not prepared to face us. We must move quickly.” 

Thexia didn’t waste any more time. 

She darted up the stairs, pushing herself past fleeing party-goers as Altrethir followed behind. They ran into a group of Knights of Zakuul and took them out without hesitation, then continued up toward the gardens. 

Three more groups of Knights stopped them along their way but the two Sith eventually reached the top. 

And what they saw made Altrethir’s brows raise in a pleasant surprise, and made Thexia’s face hot with anger. 

Amber blades clashed against each other in a fierce, heated battle; Vaylin on one end, and Arcann on the other. 

Thexia took off in a desperate dash toward the siblings, calling upon the Force to grant her an extra boost of speed. But Vaylin’s eyes widened as she sensed her father’s presence drawing near. She whipped around and spotted the Alliance commanders and made her call. 

The Empress hurled a flash of lightning upon Arcann, stunning him just enough to push past him. She made eye-contact with Thexia before jumping off the ledge of the garden wall--and Thexia watched as she sped away on a hidden speeder bike. 

The leather of her gloves creaked as she clenched her fists. 

She turned slowly, focusing her anger upon Arcann now instead. 

The fallen emperor pushed himself to his feet and held his blade steady, his cold eyes narrowing at her in suspense. 

“I ask that you hold for a moment,” Altrethir’s voice called. He briskly walked to the scene, standing between her and Arcann. 

“You would be unwise to get in my way again, _Lord_ _Valran_ _,_ ” Thexia hissed, a hint of mockery in her voice. 

“And given our current situation, it would also be unwise to kill him,” Altrethir replied calmly. “That is, of course, unless you wish to allow Valkorion to continue being a parasite.” 

“ _He lies,_ ” Valkorion’s voice echoed through Thexia’s head. “ _Search your feelings. Reach deep, sense his manipulation. His compassion has made him_ weak _._ ” 

“And even now, he tries to tell you otherwise,” Altrethir continued. “I felt his presence. Thexia,” he stepped closer, giving her a stern look and lowering his voice considerably low; “You shall have your revenge, but we must purge this plague from our minds first.” 

Thexia hesitated, her jaw still clenched. “Give me your word.” 

“You have my word.” 

She looked between the two men, going so far as to reach out with the Force to try and sense Arcann’s feelings. And she felt-… regret. Sorrow. Confliction. _Stars-_ -those emotions felt all-too familiar. 

Her heart leapt in her chest as she thought of Malavai. 

And her expression softened considerably. Thexia slowly sheathed her blades, latching the hilts upon her belt as she took a step backward. 

“I’m undeserving of your mercy,” Arcann finally spoke, “but know that I will do everything in my power to get Vaylin off the throne. And to defeat my father.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Though we're starting to wrap this story up, I have a new schedule--and I'll be posting the remaining chapters every other Saturday from now on! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was originally going to be just the scene with Thexia and Malavai; however, that by itself was a bit too short. So I combined two for a bit of a longer one.
> 
> If you'd like to keep up with my swtor shenanigans and fanfiction updates, please consider following my tumblr @blueburds! I also post swtor art over on @kitblueburdart!


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